


Tall, Dark, and Dangerous

by Dextrousleftie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Gay Romance, Gay Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:58:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dextrousleftie/pseuds/Dextrousleftie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bryce Holloway is terrified of his next door neighbor. Too bad he's also incredibly attracted to the guy, as well...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bryce Holloway was scared of his next door neighbor. Bryce was secretly convinced that the man was an assassin or maybe a Mafia thug. He was worried that one day he’d accidentally see too much when he was passing by the man’s apartment and his door was slightly open, and his neighbor would casually snuff him out to shut him up. Whenever he passed his neighbor’s door, he always screwed his eyes almost shut so that he couldn’t see out of the sides of his eyes. And he never turned his head until he was well past the doorway.

Bryce often wondered why a guy like that was living in his staid, quiet apartment building. The rest of his neighbors were mostly old ladies and single people who liked a quiet existence, so Bryce’s neighbor was as incongruous in this setting as a pebble would be in the Crown Jewels of England. 

He remembered the first time he’d seen his neighbor, the day the man moved in. He’d been standing in his doorway after the movers had shifted his things into his new apartment, when Bryce had come down the hallway toting a bunch of grocery bags over his arms. He’d been brought up short when he saw the man leaning against the door jam of the formerly empty apartment right next to his. At first, he hadn’t been able to believe his eyes.

The man was huge. Really, really huge. His black t-shirt had strained over a chest that bulged with muscle, though he wasn’t so over muscled that he had problems putting his arms down. He was just really, really in shape, and his frame was large and powerful. Plus, he was tall. He was head and shoulders over Bruce, the top of his head almost brushing the top of the doorjamb. 

The man’s head was shaved, showing off a noble skull and a strong-boned, beaky face. His eyes were slightly narrowed, and they were a peculiar amber color that made Bryce think of a wolf. This was heightened by something in that stare, something considering and dangerous. It was like the man was a predator considering which sheep to eat. Bryce had swallowed heavily, mostly from fear but also a healthy dash of attraction. What gay man wouldn’t find someone like this at least moderately attractive? He’d have to be dead not to have a reaction to the sight of that many powerful muscles, but that didn’t mean that he’d even try to act on that attraction. He wasn’t that stupid. 

The man had stared at Bryce consideringly from his doorway, his face unreadable. Bryce had finally pulled himself together enough to get moving again, and had scurried past him as quickly as he could and had darted into his apartment without looking back. He’d shut the door with a sigh of relief, feeling like he’d survived a dangerous situation. His mind had raced. What was a person like that doing moving into his building?

 

He still wondered that, several months later. In fact, the mystery had only deepened for him. He sometimes saw his neighbor leaving, and the man almost always wore a long black coat over black jeans and a t-shirt, or a dark shirt and trousers if he was feeling more formal. The clothes were definitely the kind that an assassin or Mafia thug might wear. Ditto for the thick black boots that clumped on the wooden floors as the man strode either toward his apartment or toward the stairs(he never rode the elevator). Also, the dark glasses only helped to present an image of a dangerous individual, and he almost always wore them when he was leaving the building. 

Bryce was as fascinated as he was scared. Where did the man go when he left? Had he offed anybody? Did he carry a gun or other weapon on his person? Was he right about the guy being a mafia hit man, or was he more like the guy in Grosse Pointe Blank who independently killed people for a living? He wanted to ask all kinds of questions, but he didn’t have a death wish. So he kept his mouth shut and only watched his neighbor from afar, fascinated and terrified in equal parts. 

 

One day, to his amazement, when he toted his laundry down to the basement laundry room his neighbor was already there, leaning his ass casually against one of the machines while he read a magazine. Bryce hesitated in the doorway, rather scared to enter the laundry room. Was the man washing blood out of his clothes? 

Then his neighbor glanced up from his magazine, and saw Bryce standing in the doorway. He gulped and timidly entered the laundry room, not wanting the man to see how scared Bryce was of him. He might start to think that Bryce knew something about him, and then he might decide to get rid of Bryce so that he couldn’t say anything to anybody else. He conjured up a smile so stiff it was like his face was a boar, and hurried over to a machine as far away from his neighbor’s as possible. He loaded his laundry with shaking hands, never looking away from the clothes as though they fascinated him. He seemed to feel the weight of those amber eyes on his back the whole time. 

Then he jumped in shock and horror as a deep voice rumbled above his bent head: “Don’t you live next door to me?”

His head flew up, and his wide eyes found those amber ones watching his face. He could feel all of the color draining out of it, but he managed to stutter: “Y-Yes. I do.”

A nod of the noble shaved head. “Thought so. You’re a quiet one. You never even say ‘hello’ when I pass you in the hallway.”

He swallowed thickly. “I-I’m…”

A shrug of the broad shoulders. “It’s okay. Are you shy or something? Because that’s cool.”

“Y-Yes. I’m shy,” he whispered, glad for the out. He didn’t want the man to know that he never talked to him because he was terrified of him.

Another nod. “Okay. Anyway, my name’s Drake. What’s yours?”

He froze, unable to talk. What was his name? Oh, God, he couldn’t remember his own name! What was his name!!! 

“BRYCE!” he almost yelled, as his brain finally started working again. “I’m Bryce!”

Dark brows lifted slightly. A thin mouth quirked into a slight smile. “Bryce, then. Nice to meet you.”

He didn’t know what to say. Why was the dangerous man being so polite to him? For nefarious reasons? He mumbled something, and Drake chuckled and turned away to his machine. “I know, I know,” he said, sounding amused. “You’re shy. I’ll just leave you alone.”

He was so relieved that he almost melted into a puddle on the concrete floor. But at the same time, he felt a spurt of something suspiciously like disappointment. What was wrong with him? He needed to pull himself together. He couldn’t make friends with a mafia hit man. That would be suicide. He had to keep being wary of his next door neighbor. 

Drake left the laundry room soon afterward, much to Bryce’s simultaneous relief and unhappiness. He hadn’t said anything else to Bryce, though he did wave his unburdened hand in farewell as he strolled out the door with his laundry basket on his hip. Bryce watched him go out of the corner of his eye, and sighed. Why did this man conjured such mixed emotions in him? Was he really so hard up that he was drooling over a guy who probably broke people’s bones for a living? 

Well, maybe. It was true that he was in a major dating dry spell. Bryce had always disliked gay clubs and bars, even when he was younger. Now that he was in his early thirties, he couldn’t bring himself to hang out in such places anymore. And that cut down on places for him to meet other gay men considerably. The two other gay men at work were both taken, and neither was his type anyway. He sometimes hung out at trendy coffee shops, but the yuppie gay men who frequented such places tended to care more about appearance than substance. If you had lots of muscles(God, let’s face it, if you looked like his next door neighbor)you’d have no problems getting a date. But if you were small and slender and barely even took walks as a form of exercise, let alone spent all of your free hours grunting and sweating at a gym, you were hard out of luck.

But he still wasn’t THAT desperate! No, sirree! Drake - last name unknown - was just too much man for him to handle, even if he had been gay, which Bryce heartily doubted. Men who looked like that seldom were. Not that he saw a stream of women passing through his neighbor’s door - but he didn’t see a stream of men, either. Drake seemed to be something of a hermit. Or maybe he always went to the house or apartment of whoever he was sleeping with, rather than bringing them back to his own. Whatever the case, he was always alone when Bryce passed him in the hallway, either coming or going. 

 

 

After the incident in the laundry room, Drake took to greeting Bryce whenever he passed him by. He always mumbled a greeting in return, staring down at the floor. Drake seemed to take this anti-social behavior as being part of his supposed shyness, and never took him to task over it. Something for which Bryce was heartily grateful, since he didn’t want his dangerous neighbor to be mad at him. 

 

 

This situation went on unchanged for something like six months, until a fateful day in June. Bryce had been seeing a guy who had turned out to be something of a creepy, jealous, stalker, much to his chagrin. Kyle had kept calling him obsessively even after Bryce had broken up with him, and had even come to his work once or twice to plead with Bryce to take him back. Bryce was seriously considering getting a restraining order against Kyle.  
But then on that warm day in June, Bryce came home to his apartment to find Kyle waiting outside his door. They exchanged angry words, ad Bryce told Kyle to just get the hell out of his life and leave him alone once and for all. Kyle didn’t take to kindly to these words, and slammed Bryce against the wall. He thrust his face menacingly into Bryce’s, and hissed: “If I can’t have you, nobody can!”

Bryce was terrified that he was going to die. He hung there, pinned against the wall, fear bringing him close to evacuating his bowels involuntarily. That is, until Kyle was pulled away from him inexorably and slammed against the wall himself, pinned there by a large hand. And Bryce’s scary neighbor, Drake, thrust his own face menacingly into Kyle’s and growled: “You ever touch him again, dirt bag, and I’ll twist you into knots like a pretzel. We clear?”

His upper lip had pulled back from his shiny white teeth, and his amber eyes gleamed. He looked even more like a wolf than ever, and Kyle was shaking in terror as he hung in Drake’s grasp. “Are we clear?!” Drake repeated, shaking Kyle as casually as a terrier would a rat.

“Yes!” Kyle howled in terror, something for which Bryce couldn’t blame him at all. He was terrified of Drake, too, though the man had just saved his life. 

Drake lifted Kyle even higher by the front of his t-shirt, so that his feet weren’t even touching the floor. “Good. Because I’ll be checking in with him., If he tells me that you’re still bothering him, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. All two seconds of it.”

Kyle was shaking, and a smell filled the air that told Bryce that his bladder had emptied itself involuntarily. Drake threw him away down the hallway like a rag doll. “Get lost, creep,” he rasped.

Kyle scrambled to his feet and ran away without saying another word, and  
Bryce knew that he’d never see him again. Drake turned to look at him assessing, and Bryce quivered. For several reasons, actually. Then Drake took in a deep breath and said: “Why don’t you come into my place and have a drink? You look like you could use one.”

And Bryce found himself following Drake tamely into his apartment, without any protests at all. Which just went to show how far in shock he was at the moment…


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bryce overhears something he probably shouldn't have...

Drake escorted Bryce into his apartment. He urged Bryce to sit down on his couch, a battered but comfortable old piece of furniture. He sat down tentatively, shooting looks around the apartment. But he saw no signs of bodies or blood or weapons anywhere, for which he was immensely grateful. The place was a little cluttered, and there some cups and a plate on the coffee table in front of him, but nothing dangerous or worrisome. Drake disappeared into his kitchen, and Bryce heard him moving around in there. 

He slumped on the couch, the adrenaline from his encounter with Kyle draining away, leaving him feeling exhausted and shaking slightly from over-stimulated nerves. He couldn’t believe what had just happened in the hallway. His scary neighbor had driven his stalker ex-boyfriend away, most likely for good! It had been magnificent. He never would have imagined that his scary neighbor would ever come in handy. But Drake might have just saved his life. 

Drake came back into the living room, carrying a glass a quarter full of amber liquid. He carried this over and handed it to Bryce. “Drink that,” he commanded. 

Bryce raised it to his lips automatically, then choked and spluttered when it burned its way down his throat like liquid fire. A big hand patted him on the back, and he jumped and gave Drake a wide-eyed stare even as he continued to cough and choke. “Sorry about that,” Drake said apologetically. “Haven’t you ever had whiskey before?”

Bryce finally stopped spluttering. “Not really,” he said hoarsely. “Umm…I usually drink wine and mixed drinks. Cocktails, that sort of thing. Hard liquor’s never been my thing.”

Drake’s thin lips lifted slightly. “I see,” he said, and his amber eyes had a peculiar gleam in them. That light did funny things in his stomach.   
“Anyway, that should help you relax a bit. Who was that guy, anyway?”

“That was my ex-boyfriend, Kyle,” Bryce replied miserably. “I’ve tried to get him to leave me alone, but he wouldn’t. He’s been stalking me. I was really afraid…” he trailed off, biting at his lower lip, “That he meant to kill me.”

“Well, I won’t let him bother you again,” Drake said, cracking his knuckles significantly. “You let me know if he ever comes around and bothers you again, okay?”

Bryce nodded, feeling grateful. “Thank you for helping me,” he whispered.  
“You’re welcome. I was glad to do it. I wouldn’t have been able to just stand by and watch that guy threaten you.”

Bryce nodded, looking down at the empty glass tumbler in his hand. He felt weary sadness go through him. He really could pick them, couldn’t he? It looked like he’d never have a real boyfriend again, the way he was going. Because how could he trust anybody? Kyle had seemed like a nice guy when he’d first met him. He sighed gustily, his shoulders slumping.

“Hey, don’t look so down. It’ll all work out,” Drake rumbled above his head.

He looked up with a sad smile. “Sure,” he said.

Drake looked like he was going to say something, but just then his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, giving Bryce an apologetic look. “I’ve gotta take this,” he said, looking at the screen. 

“That’s fine,” Bryce assured him.

Drake walked away from him, putting the phone to his ear. “Hey,” he said, going into the kitchen as he did so.

Bryce could still hear what he was saying, despite the fact that Drake was in another room. He’d always had very good hearing, much better than most people’s. So he could head Drake’s side of the conversation, and he listened idly. 

“Yeah, I got that,” Drake was saying. “And I agree. I’ll definitely have to take him out. He’s reached the end of his usefulness. I’ll do it tomorrow, then send you the confirmation afterward. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

Bryce felt a chill run up his spine, and he stiffened. Fear surged up in him, stealing his breath. Oh, God, he’d been right! His neighbor definitely WAS a hit man! And Bryce had just heard him say that he was going to rub someone out tomorrow! If he realized that, Bryce was a dead man! He jumped to his feet, then almost fell down as his legs tried to give way. He was shaking so hard he could barely stand. He had to get out of here! But he also had to get out in a way that made sure that Drake didn’t realize what he’d heard. He had to be as casual as he could manage. Dear God, could he pull this off? Or was he going to end up in the river as fish food?

Drake reappeared in the doorway, closing his phone. “Sorry about that, it was an important call,” he told Bryce. “Hey, are you leaving?”

He conjured up a smile so stiff that it was a wonder that his face didn’t freeze that way. “Yes,” he croaked. “I-I’ve got to go. But thanks again for helping me. I really appreciate it,” he added, beginning to inch toward the door.

Drake gave him a puzzled look, but came over to open the door for him. “I’m sorry you have to go. Look…would you consider going out and getting coffee with me sometime?” he asked hesitantly.

Bryce gaped up at him. The deadly hit man wanted to take HIM on a date?! 

He almost laughed at the strangeness of it all. “Uh, I don’t think so,” he stammered, dropping his eyes to the floor. “I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Drake sighed, sounding disappointed. Bryce wanted to laugh wildly as he scurried out the door and down the hallway toward his own apartment. What a weird day this had been! 

 

He managed to get inside somehow, though his hands were shaking so bad that he had trouble getting the key in the lock. He didn’t look back over his shoulder, lest Drake be standing in his doorway and see something in Bryce’s face that told him that Bryce knew something he shouldn’t know. Once inside with the door shut and locked behind him, he slumped against it. What should he do now? Maybe call the police? But he had no evidence of his claim that his next door neighbor intended to kill somebody tomorrow. The cops weren’t likely to take him seriously. There was nothing he could do, really, and if he DID call the cops and they responded, then Drake would know that Bryce knew that he was going to kill someone tomorrow. And then he really would be in trouble. So he guessed he’d just have to keep an eye on the paper and the news, and maybe point the cops in the right direction. He hated the fact that he couldn’t do anything about somebody being murdered, but he couldn’t think of a way out of this. 

He scrubbed wearily at his face with his hands. This day just kept going from bad to worse. He wanted to crawl into his bed and never come back out again, to hide under the covers like a burrowing animal. Safe under the ballistic protection of the down comforter, he thought wildly, and then began to laugh in a shrill, cracked, hysterical way. Man, he really was losing it! But didn’t he have a right to, at this point? Straight from the arms of his menacing ex-boyfriend and into the strong hands of a hit man who just happened to live right next door to him! Was it that God hated him, was that it? That had to be it. He wondered rather wildly just what awful thing that he’d done to deserve this as he stumbled off to his bedroom to crawl under the covers and hide - maybe not forever, but just for a little while. 

 

Bryce finally emerged in the late evening, and cocooned himself in a blanket on his couch. He ate half a pint of ice cream in one go, listlessly watching his TV. He wondered what his neighbor was doing right now. Maybe checking and cleaning his many guns in preparation for the hit tomorrow? It was too weird to think that while he sacked out on his couch, right next door was a man planning a murder. It made him feel a great sense of unreality. It was something he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around, and he wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t heard it with his own two ears. 

He decided to call in sick to work tomorrow. He just didn’t think that he could face collating data while in the back of his mind he knew that someone was going to die at Drake’s hands. Besides, he deserved a day off after today. He was so stressed out that he wanted to cry. He’d stay at home and keep an eye on the news, and maybe the comings and goings of his neighbor if he could do it quietly and stealthily enough that Drake didn’t catch him at it. He doubted that, though. He wasn’t exactly the gay James Bond. 

 

By peering out his front door, which was open a careful crack, he saw Drake leave his apartment at nine o’clock the next morning, wearing his usual ‘uniform’ of black jeans and a tight black t-shirt that lovingly hugged all of those spectacular muscles. Bryce swallowed heavily as he stared unapologetically at Drake’s ass as the man walked away down the hall toward the stairs. Even if the man was a cold-blooded killer, he has a VERY nice ass! It wasn’t fair! Why couldn’t he meet a man who looked like Drake but WASN’T a guy who rubbed people out for a living?

He sighed as he left his post and went to sprawl out on his couch. He knew that such men didn’t exist. If he wasn’t a killer, the man would turn out to be an arrogant asshole, an abuser, or a narcissistic, ego-driven jerk. That was the way the universe worked. He turned on the TV, switching to a news channel though he knew that it was probably futile. If Drake killed somebody today, he was probably professional enough to make sure that the body disappeared without a trace. 

He really wished that he could do something about this. But he had no proof except for an overheard one-sided conversation that his neighbor intended to kill somebody today. It drove him nuts that he was this helpless. All he could hope was that whoever Drake intended to rub out today was a major criminal. Maybe even a killer himself. Dear God, please don’t let it be some innocent person who didn’t deserve to be wiped out by an assassin’s bullet! He’d never be able to forgive himself if that happened.

Bryce rubbed wearily at his eyes. He hadn’t slept very well last night. He’d tossed and turned, waking up repeatedly from awful dreams in which people were screaming and running around covered in blood, with Drake standing over them with a smoking gun in his hand. Those amber eyes had looked like a demon’s eyes, glowing yellowy as Drake glared at him. In one dream, Drake had lifted the gun and pointed it at him slowly, saying in that low, deep voice: “You’re next.” He’d woken up from that one with a scream locked in his throat, covered in sweat. 

Maybe he should consider moving. But he really, really didn’t want to. This was a rent-controlled building, he liked all of the rest of his neighbors, and he’d decorated his apartment just the way he liked it. It was cozy. It was home. So he’d stay, but somehow he’d have to try to figure out what to do about his next door neighbor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not always what they seem...

Bryce did his utter, level best to completely avoid his neighbor in the days following that overheard phone call. He obsessively learned Drake’s routine, and made sure he was nowhere near the hallway when the man was leaving or entering the building. He slunk quietly past Drake’s closed apartment door when he did return home, usually later at night. He nearly held his breath every time he tiptoed past that closed door, lest it fly open and he be confronted by his oh-so-deadly neighbor. If Drake ever became suspicious of him, he was sunk. His face gave too much away. He’d never played poker, and he never intended to play it, either, since his ’poker face’ was totally non-existent. 

He kept checking the news, but wasn’t surprised that no reports of one turned up in the next few days. Just a gangland style shooting, and a case of domestic violence getting out of hand, neither of which qualified for the type of hits that he was sure that Drake carried out. But, then, he wasn’t too surprised. After all, he’d surmised that a man like Drake was professional enough that he’d make sure that no traces of the body were ever found.   
Almost a week later, Bryce stood in front of his mirror and studied his own reflection morosely. There were dark circles under his large, chocolate-brown eyes, and his elfin face was pale. His wavy hair, a lighter, more mahogany brown than his eyes, stuck up in tufts atop his head. He looked like shit. 

That wasn’t surprising, either. He simply wasn’t sleeping well these days. Those awful dreams about his neighbor came almost every night to bedevil him, and by day he was tense and worried about having a confrontation with Drake. This cloak-and-dagger stuff simply wasn’t his cup of tea. He sighed, listlessly picking up a brush and running it over his head to make some of his hair lay back down. He just didn’t know what to do about any of this.  
Maybe he’d simply have to move after all. He hated the thought, but how could he go on living next door to a killer? Knowing that the man was there, and knowing what he’d done…Bryce would never stop living in fear as long as he was in this building. Much as he hated the thought, perhaps he’d better start looking for a new apartment. He’d do that today after work. 

Acutely depressed, he finished getting dressed and drifted out into the kitchen to make himself something to eat. He nibbled at a bagel, not very hungry, his eyes roving over his cozy apartment as tears tried to force their way past his lashes. This was his HOME! And his neighbor was forcing him from his home, because he couldn’t think of any other solution to the problem of living next door to a hit man. It sucked. The whole thing sucked. And the suckiest part of all was the fact that in spite of everything, he was still extremely attracted to Drake. His cock didn’t care about what the man had done, or who he was. Ridiculous, wretched organ. Sometimes being a guy really blew. 

He finally headed out the door, walking lightly past Drake’s closed door. He almost held his breath, but it didn’t open. He managed to get by without detection yet again, and he let out that breath in a long exhale as he left the building and went to work. 

 

 

His day was long, and everything seemed to go wrong at once. He was utterly exhausted and heartsick by the time he trailed home after seven o’clock, having stopped to get something to eat at a diner. He hoped to avoid Drake by coming in late yet again, and it looked like he’d succeeded as he snuck past Drake’s closed door. But then, just as he thought he was in the clear, he heard a sound that chilled his blood and froze him in place, terror lashing through him - the sound of a door opening. 

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God! He chanted in his head, unable to move. Then he heard a deep voice rumble behind him: “Hey, Bryce.”

Somehow he got his mouth and throat to work, though it was the hardest thing that he’d ever done. “Hi, Drake,” he croaked.

“You got a minute?”

Oh, fuck. He tried to think of a reason that he might not ‘have a minute’, but his brain was completely empty except for the deranged, wild monkey running around in there howling and gibbering in terror. When he said nothing, Drake went on: “Can you come in here?”

A sudden, utter calm descended on Bryce. He was a dead man. So be it. He turned on legs that felt numb, and looked up into Drake’s impassive face. The man stood next to his open apartment door, his arms folded over his chest, looking like a deadly Mr. Clean. Bryce walked forward into the apartment, figuring distantly that at least it would all be over now and he wouldn’t have to be scared anymore. 

Drake followed him inside and shut the door. The sound of it closing was a death knell to Bryce. He was sure he’d never leave this apartment again alive. “Sit down, please,” Drake said to him, and he obediently folded onto the elderly couch as his legs gave way under him. He still felt totally clam and utterly numb. Nothing mattered anymore. He was going to die soon.  
Drake loomed over him, a gigantic man-mountain. “Look, I need to ask you something. Have you been avoiding me?” he asked Bryce.

Okay, here it came. He spoke, his lips feeling like wood. “Of course not. Why would I avoid you?” His voice was completely free of emotion, distant-sounding. There was a certain freedom in the knowledge that you weren’t going to live out the day. 

Drake frowned, and Bryce felt a distant rush of terror race through him at the sight of it. But it didn’t matter. He was doomed, anyway. “Well, it sure seems like you’ve been avoiding me. Was it something I said?”

“No, of course not,” he replied, still in that flat, stilted voice. He could see the skepticism in Drake’s face. 

Drake moved toward him, and he instinctively flinched. The big man froze, staring down at him incredulously. “Are you afraid of me?” he demanded in disbelief.

Bryce couldn’t even speak then. He shook his head, knowing that it was a futile gesture. Of course Drake could see that Bryce was terrified of him. It was written all over his expressive face. “What the hell did I do to make you scared of me?!” Drake demanded, glowering down at him. 

Bryce decided to confess everything. Why not? He was doomed, anyway. Drake was bound to find out what was going on soon. All he had to do was threaten Bryce a bit, apply some pressure, and he’d fold like a cheap suit. He’d always been a total coward. So he spoke up, saying: “I heard you on the phone, the day you saved me from my ex-boyfriend. I heard what you said.”

Drake’s dark brows drew together. “Heard what I…when I was talking on the phone? So? Why does that scare you so bad?”

Bryce gave him an incredulous look of his own. “I HEARD you tell somebody you were going to rub somebody out!” He shrilled. “Was it a Mob hit, Drake? Or are you a professional assassin? My money’s on Mob hit man, but I guess I could be wrong!”

Drake’s mouth was hanging open, and he was gaping down at Bryce. “You think that I’m a…Mob hit man…” he said weakly. 

“Aren’t you?” Bryce hissed. “I HEARD you making plans for the hit!”

To his utter shock, Drake threw his head back and laughed. It was a hearty sound, full of amusement. As he gaped up at Drake in turn, the man chortled and did something so strange that Bryce could only stare at him - he reached up to his eyes and did something with his eyeballs! Then, when his hand dropped away, Bryce gasped and nearly fell off the couch. His eyes were a different color! Gone was the amber wolf’s stare. In its place were a pair of rather mild-looking blue-grey eyes that peered rather myopically down at him. “Wha..?” he stammered, completely baffled.

“I’m sorry for laughing,” Drake told him, still grinning. “But it’s awesome that you thought I was a Mafia hit man. That’s completely the persona I was going for!”

“Urk,” was all Bryce managed. His brain had checked out without leaving a forwarding address. 

Drake sobered. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he said earnestly to Bryce. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. But what you heard on the phone…that was me talking to my publisher. He suggested that I get rid of a character, and I agreed with him. I’m an artist, you see. I draw a series of graphic novels called Hit and Run, about a Mafia hit man named Drake Armstrong. It was also his idea for me to transform myself into Drake for a year or so, to use myself as the template for my character. It goes over really big at comic-cons, you see.”

Bryce blinked, his brain still not functioning well enough to take in everything that Drake was saying. “Are you saying,” he began weakly, “That you’re LARPing your own comic book character?”

Drake pointed a gleeful finger at him. “That’s it exactly!” he cried, beaming down at Bryce. “I KNEW you were smart! I started dressing all in black, shaved my head, wore colored contacts, and worked out like a crazy man, all to become my character. It’s been great for the most part, though there have been some drawbacks. Like scaring my next door neighbor, apparently,” he added ruefully.

“Is Drake even your name?!” Bryce demanded, starting to feel upset. He’d been completely fooled, and this guy had scared him half to death! He was very upset right now.

The other man looked sheepish. “Nah. It’s actually…uh…Freddie,” he mumbled, staring at the floor as though he found it fascinating.

“Freddie,” Bryce repeated. How the hell could he be scared of a man named Freddie? 

“If I’d known that you heard that call, I would have told you everything then,” Freddie told him earnestly. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to be scared of me. I really…kind of…like you,” he said half under his breath, looking at the floor again as color rose in his cheeks.

Dear God, the dangerous Mafia hit man(Not!) was blushing! Bryce felt something weird happening in his chest and abdomen at the sight of it. So his terrifying next door neighbor turned out to be a shy geek with a crush on Bryce! Good Lord, who could have seen this coming? Bemused, he rose to his feet. “I don’t know what to say here,” he began. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Freddie assured him. Without that intimidating amber stare, his face was much more friendly and less dangerous-looking. “I’m really sorry that I scared you. I never meant for that to happen. I guess I just thought…that maybe you’d like me more if I was in character as Drake. That’s all.”

Bryce shook his head. “Well, you were wrong about that,” he assured Freddie. “If anything, I‘ve avoided you all this time since you moved in because you kind of scared me all along.”

Freddie threw him a chagrined look. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s all right. Thanks for telling me all of this and putting me out of my misery. Now I won’t have to move,” Bryce remarked as he headed for the door.

“What?! Move?!” Freddie squawked, sounding anxious.

Bryce flipped a hand at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’m staying,” he said as he opened the door. “See you around, Freddie,” and he walked out the door, leaving the other man staring after him mournfully.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making amends...with kittens

Bryce was puttering around his apartment, doing some light cleaning and dusting. It was kind of pathetic that he was spending his Saturday cleaning, but he had no prospects for a date. So he ran the duster busily over his bookshelves, singing along to the song playing on the radio. In spite of the fact that he had no plans for this weekend, he was in a good mood. He didn’t have to move out of his lovely apartment to avoid his neighbor. 

While he’d been shocked by Drake’s…err…Freddie’s revelation, now he was just happy that the guy next door wasn’t going to try to rub him out.  
He grinned a little to himself. While the truth was weird, it was such a relief to find out that his next door neighbor wasn’t a Mafia hit man! Pretty much the opposite, in fact. A comic book geek. How funny was that? It made him curious to wonder what Freddie had once looked like before he’d taken on the persona of his character. He couldn’t really imagine Freddie as a typical geek, not after thinking the man was a dangerous hit man for over six months now. 

He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Freddie for four days now. It seemed it was his neighbor’s turn to avoid him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. While he’d been very angry initially, now that that had worn off he secretly kind of hoped to run into Freddie in the hallway. Maybe start a light conversation with him. Tell the man that he wasn’t mad anymore.

 

There was a knock at his front door. Surprised, he turned to look at it. Was it one of his neighbors? The elderly ladies who lived in the building often came to him for ‘man help’, as they called it, since most of them were widows and were old enough that they needed a hand doing things like changing light bulbs, carrying heavy bags, etc. He was always happy to lend a hand when he could, and in turn they all doted on him. 

“Coming!” he called, setting down the duster and walking over to the door. He swung it open, expecting to see Mrs. Pontillo from down the hall or Mrs. Freemont from across the way. 

Instead, he was startled to see a sheepish-looking Freddie standing outside his door. The big man was holding a cardboard box in his hands, from which issued some rather odd meeping noises. He was dressed much differently from all of the other times that Bryce had seen him. Gone were the black clothes and heavy boots. In their place was a baggy old t-shirt with a blue British police call box on the front, and the words: ‘The Doctor is IN’ written along the bottom. Worn jeans were belted at the waist, and the baggy shirt was tucked into it. He also wore an unbuttoned plaid shirt and tennis shoes, which Bryce recognized as the official outfit of the geek. Black-framed glasses perched on his nose, which took him aback at first until he realized that those colored contacts must also have been regular contacts that helped him to see better. “Hi,” he said softly to Bryce.

“Oh, hi,” he replied, his voice even. “What brings you here, Dra…err…Freddie?”

“I just wanted to apologize again!” Freddie burst out, sounding anxious. “If I’d known you were freaked out about my Drake thing, I would have dropped the act months ago and told you the truth! Honestly, I really thought that you’d go for a guy like him!”

Bryce lifted his eyebrows a bit. “Why did you think that?”

A helpless shrug. “Well, some guys do. I mean, whenever I went out to the clubs as Drake, they were all over me. I’d never had guys hit on me like that before. Gay guys don’t usually think much of geeks,” he added with a grimace. 

Bryce had to concede that this was often true. “What is in there?” he asked, intensely curious about the noises emanating from the cardboard box in Freddie’s hands.

“I found these guys out in the dumpster behind my store. I draw the graphic novels as a sideline. I own a comic book store,” Freddie explained to Bryce. “I brought them over because I was hoping you’d fall in love with them enough that you wouldn’t just slam the door in my face.”

Okay, now he HAD to see what was in the box! Bryce stood on his tiptoes a bit and peered inside. What he saw made his heart melt. “Aww, they’re darling!” He squealed, as his eyes lighted on five tiny balls of fluff.

“Aren’t they? Somebody just dumped these little guys in the trash!” Freddie said indignantly. “When I found them, I rushed them to the vet’s. He said that they’re pretty much weaned and surprisingly healthy, so I decided to keep ‘em for a few weeks until they’re a bit bigger and I can find them good homes. They’ve just had bowls of kitten food wetted with kitten milk, so they’re not hungry. I think they just want attention.”

“Can I hold one?” Bryce asked, his hands already reaching into the box as he spoke. 

“Of course. I want to socialize them so they don’t go feral. They need to be held as much as possible.”

Bryce scooped up one of the kitten, which turned out to be grey, white and orange all mixed together. Both stripes and spots littered its coat. Big green eyes blinked up at him, and the kitten meowed with a pink mouth. “Aren’t you adorable?” he cooed to it. “Looks like you had more than one daddy, though,” he added, looking its patchwork of colors, spots and stripes over. 

“Yeah, I think it did,” Freddie agreed. “Look…can I come in?”

Bryce nodded, stepping back. “Sit down,” he said, inclining his head toward the couch. 

“Thanks,” Freddie said. “These little guys aren’t heavy, but this box does get awkward,” he set it on his lap, and reached in to scoop up yet another kitten. It immediately buried its claws into the front of his baggy t-shirt, and began to climb him.

He laughed. It was a deep, rumbling sound that did funny things to Bryce’s insides. He petted the kitten now curled up in his hands, its purring a soothing drone. “I think it thinks I’m Mt. St. Freddie,” Freddie remarked in amusement, as the black-and-grey kitten reached his shoulder and crouched there triumphantly. 

“Yes, it seems to,” Bryce agreed as Freddie lifted a hand to scritch at the kitten’s chest with his long fingers.

Bryce had a sudden vision of those same fingers petting him in as much the same way as Freddie was stroking the kitten, and suddenly he felt the front of his pants get too tight. He gulped, turning away a little to conceal the distinct bulge at his groin. 

“Anyway, I just came over to tell you that from now on, I’m going back to the real me,” Freddie commented behind him, as Bryce tried to pull himself together.

“The…real you?” he repeated slowly.

“Yeah, the guy I was before I started playing Drake Armstrong. I’m not gonna stop working out, though. I was fat before, and I don’t want to go back to that. But I’m going to regrow my hair and start dressing like myself again. Though I’ll have to buy some new clothes. My old ones are all too big for me now.”

Bryce turned around again, now that he’d gotten his body back under control. “You were fat?” he asked incredulously, eyeing Freddie’s muscular, powerful frame.

Freddie laughed, dryly. “Yeah. Can you believe it? I was, though. Here, I’ve got a picture taken at a comic con a few years ago,” he reached down to pull out his wallet, and dug in it until he found a photo. He pulled it out and held it so that Bryce could take it from him. He shifted the kitten to one hand only so that he could take the photo and look at it.

His jaw dropped. The photo showed a man who was obviously Freddie, standing next to a guy in a very good Iron Man costume. He was wearing an outfit similar to the one he had on now - but the t-shirt bulged over a large belly, and his face was much less craggy and much rounder. He had long, greasy-looking hair that made Bruce grimace internally(he had nothing against men with long hair, as long as they took care of it properly) and the ugliest scraggly mess of beard that Bryce had ever seen. He HATED those kids of beards, the ones that weren’t well-groomed and looked like unruly pubic hair. The glasses that Freddie was wearing in the picture were similar to the ones he wore now, and might be the same pair. He looked so different that it was shocking.

“Wow. I can’t believe that this is you,” he said, looking up at Freddie.

A nod. “Yep, that’s me. In all my geeky glory. Before I started working out like crazy and shaved my head and got colored contacts. Before I decided to be Drake, because Drake was the kind of guy who could get the men he wanted easily. Because gay guys are attracted to dangerous men, but they don’t ever seem to be attracted to geeky ones. Especially overweight geeky ones.”

Bryce felt a surge of sympathy rush through him. Freddie had gone through his transformation to ‘dangerous hit man’ because he was lonely and unhappy. He himself knew what that felt like. Intimately. “But you’re going to go back to looking like this?” He asked, glancing down at the photo again.

“Not really. Like I said, I’ll keep working out to stay thin. Though maybe not as much anymore, since I don’t need huge muscles to be a graphic novelist. I’ll grow out my hair, but maybe not so long. Get new clothes, that sort of thing.”

“But no beard!” Bryce cried, then felt himself turn rather pink.

Freddie stared at him. “What?”

Bryce sighed, then decided to be brutally honest. “This is one of the ugliest beards that I’ve ever seen,” he said, lifting the photo a little. “I mean, seriously. Do NOT grow it back.”

Freddie flushed and looked uncomfortable. “I thought it made me look…older. Or smarter, or something,” he mumbled to his shoes.

“Well, it doesn’t. You have a nice-looking face, especially now that you’re thinner. Why not show it off?”

Freddie’s eyes rose to his. “You think I’m nice-looking?” He asked hopefully.

Now it was Bryce’s turn to flush. “Well, yeah,” he husked. “I do. I even thought so when you were playing Drake Armstrong and scaring me to death.”

Hope sprang up in Freddie’s blue-grey eyes, behind the black-framed glasses. “Does that mean that…uhh…we could like…go out sometime?” He asked hopefully.

Bryce felt a flush of warmth go through him. “Maybe,” he replied, though he knew in his heart that the answer to that question was REALLY an unequivocal ‘Yes!’.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date is made

“So…ummm…could I maybe take you out to dinner sometime this week?” Freddie asked hopefully.

Bryce hesitated, then shook his head slowly. “No.”

Freddie’s face fell. He looked like a large, very muscular puppy who somebody had kicked. Bryce felt terrible, so he hurried on: “If it’s okay with you, I could cook for us both instead. I love to cook, and it’s been some time since I made food for somebody else.” 

Freddie stared up at him. “You mean….we’d eat dinner here, but it’d still be a date?” He asked eagerly, instantly brightening.

Bryce’s lips twitched up into a smile. The man was just so damn cute! He never thought that he’d think that about his next door neighbor, but what a difference a few days made…

“That’s right,” he agreed. “Perhaps Tuesday night? I’m going out with some friends tomorrow night,” he explained as Freddie looked faintly disappointed.

“Okay. Should I bring anything?”

Bryce laughed. “Maybe just these little guys again? They make me laugh,” he said teasingly as he lifted the kitten now nestled in his hands, fast asleep.  
Freddie chuckled. “They are adorable, aren’t they? They all sleep in this big old mound on my other pillow at night. It’s so cute I can barely stand it.”

Bryce thought his heart would melt at this image. “definitely bring them over, then. I’ll have kitten food ready for them.”

“Speaking of the kittens, can I take the rest out of the box and let ‘em run around on your floor? I think they’re getting a bit stir crazy,” Freddie remarked, peering into the box.

“Sure. Why not? Go ahead.”

Freddie scooped the other three kittens out of the box and set them and the one who had been sitting on his shoulder onto the floor together. The kittens instantly scattered, intent on exploring their new environment. Freddie watched them with a grin on his face. “When the time comes to find them new homes, I’m going to be SO tempted to just keep them all! But I can’t have five cats in my apartment. It’s not big enough, and the pet deposit would choke a cow. But maybe I’ll keep one of them. It’ll be nice to have a pet again.”

Bryce looked down at the kitten in his hands, which had lifted its head and was watching its brothers and sisters scurry around on the floor with interest. “Yes, it would,” he agreed. “I had a kitty growing up. Maybe…I could keep this one?”

“If you want him, he’s all yours,” Freddie told him. “He really seems to like you anyway.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” Bryce agreed happily, running his fingers over the tiny head again and again. The kitten tipped its head up and purred for him. 

Freddie smiled at him. “What’s not to like?” he said softly.

Bryce felt heat rise up in his cheeks. He didn’t think anyone else had ever looked at him with quite so much admiration before this. In fact, often gay men’s eyes tended to go right past him and settle on other, more tempting targets behind him. But Freddie looked at him like a starving man stares at a buffet that’s been set out right in front of his eyes. Like he intended to gorge himself until he was sick. It made him feel all hot and bothered. 

He cleared his throat. “Uhh…would you like something to drink?” he croaked. 

“Sure. Whatever you’ve got. And maybe some water for the kittens?”

“Done. I’ll be right back,” Bryce fled to his kitchen, to cool himself down by standing in front of the open refrigerator door. He chose two bottles of iced tea with lemon(his favorite), and filled a little dish with water for the kittens as well. He carried these things back out into the living room, and the sight that met his eyes made his heart skip a beat and his abdominal muscles flutter wildly. Freddie was sitting cross-legged on his polished wooden floor, and kittens were crawling wildly over him like he was an animated mountain. 

Bryce wanted to go: “Awww,” as he stared at this adorable sight. A kitten was clinging to the front of the baggy t-shirt, heading determinedly for Freddie’s shoulder. Another one was picking at his jeans, and from the grimace on his face those claws were razor sharp. A third had settled on top of his groin, and from the way he was sitting very, very still Bryce guessed that he was afraid that the kitten might dig in its claws in a sensitive place if he moved. His lips trembled as he tried to hold in his laughter, but finally he succumbed.

Freddie looked up at him, giggling in the doorway that led into the kitchen. He made a face. Bryce nearly doubled over, finding it hard to breathe because he was laughing so hard. Freddie shrugged a bit and stroked his fingers over the fur of a kitten that was crawling over his right hand.   
Bryce finally recovered enough to carry the dish of water over, squat down, and set it on the floor next to Freddie. “Thanks,” he said gratefully.

Bryce held up the bottle of iced tea. “Would you like me to open it for you?” he teased, his brown eyes sparkling.

“That’d be great,” Freddie told him, a grin hovering on his own lips.

Bryce giggled again and opened the bottle of iced tea, then held it out so that Freddie could take a sip out of the bottle. He held his breath a little, because this gesture seemed so intimate. Freddie’s lips glistened with a few drops of tea, and he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and lick those droplets off with his tongue. Freddie seemed to be holding his breath, as their eyes met. Bryce started to lean forward, going in for just one little kiss…

 

He squawked suddenly as a set of very sharp claws dug into his ankle. He jumped to his feet, dislodging the kitten that had been attempting to climb him and had found only bare skin to sink its claws into. He looked ruefully down at the bloody pinpricks on his ankle, as the kitten gave him a reproving look and scampered away to climb over Freddie’s jeans-clad knee instead. 

Freddie chuckled. He grinned at Bryce’s look of outrage. “Sorry,” he said. “But that was kind of funny.”

Bryce supposed that it was, even though his ankle throbbed a little. Freddie began to dispose of the kittens hanging all over him, carefully setting them on the floor near the water dish. Finally, he was kitten-free. He clambered carefully to his feet, and joined Bryce on the couch nearby. “Is your ankle okay?” he asked.

“I’ll survive,” Bryce told him. He studied Freddie’s face curiously, making the bigger man frown at him. 

“Is there something on my face?” He asked.

Bryce shook his head. “It’s just… you’re so different now. If this is the real you, how did you impersonate someone like your character for so long?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Freddie told him. “But I just took what I saw in my head and applied it to real life. I was acting, I suppose. And after awhile, it got easier because I was used to it. In my head, I sort of WAS Drake. At least when I was out in public, anyway. At home, I always reverted to myself. I didn’t want to try to be Drake 24/7. He’s not exactly a nice guy.”

“You said he’s a Mafia hit man,” Bryce mused, remembering Freddie’s explanation from a few days ago. 

“Yeah, that’s right. In fact, I brought this with me in case you wanted to look at it,” Freddie reached into the plaid shirt and pulled a thick, glossy booklet out of its inner pocket. “This is my first graphic novel of Hit and Run, the comic book about Drake. It’s the first five issues gathered in one place. Here,” he handed it to Bryce, who took it curiously.

The front cover of the glossy book showed the cover of what he presumed must have been a comic book originally. It showed a man standing on the roof of a tall building, staring out over a city. It was night, and a dim light illuminated a powerful body. He was wearing clothes that looked familiar to Bryce, a long black trench coat, tight black jeans, and an even tighter black t-shirt stretched over an impressive set of muscles. His head was shaved, and the amber eyes that colored contacts had given Freddie were staring narrow-eyed out at the lights twinkling below him. A cigarette dangled from one hand, and Bryce saw a set of holstered guns under the long coat where the wind was blowing it up and away from Drake’s body. 

“Did you carry guns around?” he squeaked, his eyes darting up to Freddie’s.

A shake of the shaved head. “Nah. I’m scared to death of guns. But I did have a set of realistic-looking water pistols that I took to the comic cons with me.”

Bryce’s lips twitched again. “Water pistols?” He repeated, his voice wavering.

Freddie grinned. “Yeah. I soaked more than one of my fans at those things. They loved it. Thought it was funny.”

“It is,” Bryce agreed. “And the cigarette? Do you smoke?”

“Hell, no!” Freddie replied briskly. “And there was no way I was going to start smoking just to impersonate my character and sell books. I wasn’t gonna give myself lung cancer just to get a few more bucks. I drew the line on that when my agent sort of suggested it. That man would do anything to make money, but I won’t.”

“That’s good,” Bryce told him. “I hate cigarettes. They’re smelly and horrible and really bad for you. I’m glad you didn’t start smoking just to be more like your character.”

“Me, too. Because it was bad enough that I scared my next door neighbor half to death by acting and looking like Drake. It would have been awful if I’d made it worse by smoking, too. I’m just glad that he was nice enough to forgive me and agree to go out with me. It would have sucked so hard if he’d stayed mad at me,” he said softly.

Bryce turned his head and met those intent blue-grey eyes once again. “How could I stay mad at him when he brought me kittens?” He said, a small smile drifting over his lips.

Freddie’s eyes gleamed. “Kittens are the ultimate ice breaker,” he agreed breathily. He started to lean forward, and Bryce opened his mouth instinctively. The first touch of those lips was warm and sweet and sure, and he groaned and opened even further to a questing tongue. His arms rose to twine around Freddie’s broad shoulders. He held on for dear life, making little noises as Freddie kissed him so assuredly and so boldly that he wondered dimly if the other man was still channeling a bit of Drake Armstrong. But right at this moment, he didn’t care in the least if that was the case…


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking forward to a dinner date

Bryce felt a little dizzy by the time the kiss ended. He sort of half-fell against Freddie’s broad, muscular chest, panting and shivering a little. His cock was raging in the comfortable tan shorts he was wearing, and he whimpered helplessly as Freddie’s broad hands stroked his arms. All he wanted was to get up and lead the big man into his bedroom, there to spend hours pleasuring each other into a sex coma. 

But as he opened his mouth to suggest this naughty afternoon activity, a sudden squawk drew both of their eyes to the floor. Two of the kittens were wrestling vigorously there, clawing and biting at each other. “I-I’d better get them home and feed them,” Freddie remarked hoarsely. “And let them use the litter box before they start making messes on your nice, clean floor. I’m sorry…I’ll see you the day after tomorrow? What time?” he added as he rose to his feet reluctantly.

Bryce fought to get his brain to work properly. “Uhhh…anytime after seven o’clock,” he decided. “I’ll have dinner ready by then. And I’ll buy a litter box and some kitten food, so you can bring these little guys over with you rather than leaving them at home alone,” he went on with a smile.

Freddie beamed down at him. “You rock, Bryce! We’ll be here with bells on, all of us!”

He leaned down to start scooping protesting balls of fur into the box, while Bryce fought down his raging hard on and accepted the fact that it wasn’t going to see any relief except by his own hand anytime soon. He sighed, but he understood. Freddie needed to take care of his foster kittens, and he’d have done the same if he’d been in Freddie’s shoes. But that didn’t make it any easier on him, since it had been months since he’d last had sex with anyone. He suspected his balls were turning a distinct teal color by now. Heading for full on navy…but maybe that would change soon. Maybe the day after tomorrow. He smiled again at this thought, looking forward to his date with Freddie already.

Freddie had gotten the last kitten out from under his coffee table and had lifted it, squeaking, into the box. “There we are,” he remarked in satisfaction. He picked up the box. “We’ll all see you the day after tomorrow, Bryce. After seven,” he went on, grinning brightly down at Bryce.

He nodded. “I’ll see you then. I can’t wait,” he added truthfully.

Freddie nodded. “Me, either,” he said softly. Then he walked to the door, and Bryce went with him so that he could open the door for him, since Freddie’s arms were full of kitten box.

Bryce stepped out into the hallway and moved with him down it. “What are you doing?” Freddie asked him curiously.

“I’m going to open your door for you. So that you don’t have to juggle the box and the doorknob. I don’t want you to drop the box,” Bryce explained. 

“Oh, man, you are so sweet,” Freddie said happily. “Thanks, Bryce.”

He opened Freddie’s front door. “No problem at all,” he replied.

Freddie smiled down at him, then bent and lightly kissed him on the lips. “We all appreciate you,” he said against Bryce’s lips. “Thanks for agreeing to see us again.” 

Bryce giggled. “You’re welcome,” he said merrily, closing the door after Freddie as he stepped into his apartment. Shaking his head but still smiling, he went back to his own apartment with a light heart and a spring in his step. He had a date! The first one he’d been on in months, and NOT with a complete asshole like his last boyfriend! Life was definitely looking up for him.

 

“So, Bryce, let’s hear it,” his friend Simon leaned over the table and grinned cheekily at him.

Bryce sipped at his colorful cocktail and lifted a single brow eloquently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied coolly.

Simon giggled as his friends Ethan and Josh exchanged laughing glances with each other. “Yeah, right,” Simon said. “I haven’t seen you look this happy for a long time. Who is he, honey?”

Bryce shrugged. “I MAY have a date tomorrow night,” he conceded. 

Simon grinned. “I knew it. Who is he?” He asked again, as Ethan and Josh leaned forward with almost identical looks of anticipation on their faces.

“Well…it’s sort of…my next door neighbor,” Bryce admitted reluctantly.

Simon’s mouth dropped open, as Ethan and Josh gaped at him. “You mean that big, scary guy you were telling us about?! The Mafia guy?!” Simon spluttered. “Are you crazy?!”

Bryce looked sheepish. “It turns out that I was wrong,” he began. “He’s not a Mafia guy, I swear. In fact, he’s sort of…a comic book geek.”

Simon just stared at him. “A…comic book geek?” he repeated incredulously.

As Ethan and Josh exchanged a bewildered glance between them, Bryce began to explain how he’d discovered the real identity of his next door neighbor. His friends were all fascinated by this story. “So he’s really just a comic book geek? And he has a total crush on you?” Simon remarked, shaking his head.

Bryce nodded. “Yup. But he’s really a nice, sweet, genuine guy. I like him a lot. I really think that he might be someone special, you know?”

Simon’s face softened, and he reached across the tabletop to take Bryce’s hand in his own. “Oh, honey, I hope so,” he said. “You really deserve some happiness with a nice guy, after your last crappy boyfriend. I’m crossing my fingers…” he did so, elaborately, making Bryce smile in turn, “That this works out for you.”

Josh and Ethan both nodded emphatically in agreement with Simon’s words. “You deserve to be as happy as we are, Bryce,” Josh said stoutly, taking Ethan’s hand and squeezing it as he smiled into his lover’s eyes.

Bryce felt close to happy tears. “Thanks, you guys,” he said. 

“But you’ve got to tell us how the sex is,” Simon added with a wink.

Bryce sighed, shaking his head. But that was just the way Simon was. “I’ll think about it,” he said, which of course meant ‘not on your life’. 

Simon pretended to pout, knowing exactly what he was saying. He sipped at his own colorful drink, his eyes scanning the bar. “So I guess you’re not going to be trying to pick anybody up tonight,” he said to Bryce.

“Nope. I’m taken for the foreseeable future.”

Simon eyed a handsome guy standing nearby, pursing his lips and licking at them extravagantly. The guy returned his look with interest, leering openly at him. Bryce snorted into his drink. “I can see that you’re not having any trouble, though,” he remarked to the air.

“When do I ever?” Simon replied, still making eye contact with the hot stud. “I’ll see you guys later. Much, much later,” he added as he slid out of his chair and strolled away to talk to the hot guy.

Bryce chuckled as Josh shook his head. “Simon doesn’t know what he’s missing,” he remarked, twining his fingers with Ethan’s.

“That’s because he’s not missing it yet. Simon’s not ready to settle down,” Bryce pointed out to his friends. “Besides, what’s wrong with that? Not everybody is made for long term committed relationships. Some people just want to have all the fun that they can, and there’s nothing bad about that.”

Josh and Ethan to concede that he had a point. While they themselves were so strongly attached to each other that they practically did everything together, Simon was at the other end of the spectrum. And there really was nothing wrong with that. Bryce hoped to be sort of in the middle with Freddie, a happy couple who still made time for themselves outside of the relationship. He found Ethan and Josh’s closeness rather stifling, actually, though he’d never tell them that. 

 

Bryce toted several bags of groceries toward his apartment, ready to start making dinner for Freddie. He’d decided on fettuccini carbonara, garlic bread, and a lovely goat cheese and sun-dried tomato salad, with chocolate mousse for dessert and a red wine to go with the meal. He’d also picked up a cat litter box and a bag of litter for the kittens, as well as plastic bowls to holds the kitten food and water for the little beasts. So he was lugging a lot of stuff in his arms, and he was tired and out-of-breath by the time he approached his front door. 

The door to Freddie’s apartment opened, and the big man stepped outside. Today he was wearing a variation on a theme, with a t-shirt that had a photo of the Starship Enterprise circling the planet Earth on it and the caption: Beam Me Up, Scotty, There’s No Intelligent Life Down Here. His jeans were even rattier than the ones he’d been wearing the day before yesterday, and the plaid flannel shirt was blue-and-white checked rather than black-and-red. “Hey, Bryce, do you need some help?” he asked worriedly, eyeing the many bags that Bryce was carrying.

“Dear God, yes,” he panted breathlessly. “Do you think you could take some of this?”

Freddie responded by stepping forward and scooping everything out of Bryce’s arms in one fell swoop, holding it all easily. “Let me hold this stuff while you open your door,” he told Bryce.

So relieved and grateful that he could almost cry, Bryce led the way to his door and used his key to open it. Freddie carried the stuff inside and into his kitchen without being asked, setting it all on the small table in there. “Thank you,” he breathed. “I was afraid that my arms were going to fall off.”

“Hey, happy to help. If your arms fell off, how could you make me dinner?” Freddie teased, grinning and winking at him.

Bryce giggled. “You have a point. Now, shoo, shoo. I want to get dinner started, and I want to surprise you,” he made shooing motions with his hands, herding an amiable Freddie out of his apartment.

“I’ll see you later with kittens in tow,” he said before Bryce shut the door.

 

Bryce grinned and rolled his shoulders and arms, trying to get some life back into them. He couldn’t wait. To either have his date with Freddie, and to get to make much of the adorable kittens again as well. He was thinking of naming the one he wanted to keep Jasper. That seemed like a good name for a cat. To hopefully be getting a boyfriend AND a cat all in one fell swoop? Well, that sort of made him the luckiest guy in the world, in his estimation.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first date

Bryce was just taking the garlic bread from the oven when there was a knock at his door. Actually, it was more of a thunk, something which was explained when he swung it open and revealed Freddie standing outside holding his ‘box o’ kittens’ yet again. “Hey,” he said with a smile. “We’re here.”

“Come on in,” Bryce told him, stepping back. “I’ve got the litter box and food dishes set up, so you can just put the little guys on the floor and let them play.”

“Awesome. I don’t think they like being in this box.” He carried the cardboard box inside of Bryce’s apartment and set it down on the floor, scooping kittens out of it until there were five balls of fluff running around on his hardwood floor. Bryce’s heart melted as he watched them. They were just so cute! 

Then Freddie rose to his feet, and Bryce got a good look at him. His breath caught, and a shudder passed over him. Because Freddie was dressed once again in the clothes from his ‘Drake persona’, a pair of tight black jeans, a long-sleeved black shirt that outlined his massive muscles, and the pair of thick, heavy black boots. He gulped, unable to tear his eyes away. “Why are you dressed like that?!” He blurted out, breathily.

Freddie looked down at himself. “Because I wanted to look nice for our date, and the only semi-nice looking clothes that I have are all Drake’s. Besides,” he added with a surprisingly wicked grin, “You told me that you were attracted to ‘Drake’ even when you thought he was a Mafia hit man, so now that you know that I’m not…” he trialed off significantly, spreading his hands so that Bryce could get an even better look at him.

Oh, man! He SO wanted to drag Freddie off to his bedroom right here and now! But, damn it, he’d worked hard on this dinner and they weren’t going to sit down to it cold! “Y-You should come and eat,” he stuttered, forcing himself to turn away before he jumped the man. “The food’s ready.”

“Great. I’m starved. And it smells so good,” Freddie said appreciatively, as he followed Bryce to the small table that he’d covered with a pretty cloth and decorated with a little vase of flowers. 

Bryce pointed to a chair. “Sit down, and I’ll bring you a plate. Do you drink wine?”

“Sure, I guess. It’s not my favorite thing, but…”

“Well, I won’t fill the glass all the way, then,” Bryce said teasingly.

Freddie chuckled as Bryce flitted into the kitchen to fill two plates with the fettuccini, salad, and a piece of garlic bread. He poured two glasses of wine, filling Freddie’s only about a third of the way. Then he carried everything out into the living room to the table, deftly setting a plate and then the wine glass in front of Freddie. “What kind of salad dressing would you like?” he asked. “I have a raspberry vinaigrette, but I also have a tangy ranch if you’d prefer that.”

“Ranch sounds great. And this looks so delicious,” Freddie said, looking his plate over. 

Bryce went back into the kitchen for the salad dressings. He brought them back to the table, taking his own seat as he handed Freddie the bottle of tangy ranch. “Eat up,” he said as he opened the bottle of raspberry vinaigrette. 

“Happy to. I’m hungry enough to eat a horse, let alone an awesome meal like this one.”

Freddie happily drizzled his salad with ranch dressing, then tucked into his meal ravenously. He made appreciative noises as he ate, sounds that did nothing to quell Bryce’s libido whatsoever. He loved being able to feed somebody, to take care of him. It’s what he’d always wanted, because he was a caretaker. But unfortunately for him, most of his past boyfriends hadn’t been appreciative of his efforts at all. A couple had even accused him of smothering them. Those accusations had cut deep. He hoped desperately   
that Freddie wasn’t the same as those other guys. 

“This is, like, the most super awesome food that I’ve ever had!” Freddie cried enthusiastically, having cleared his plate so fast he must have vacuumed the food up rather than actually chewing and swallowing it. “Thanks! It’s been a really long time since I’ve had a home-cooked meal.”

“You’re welcome. But don’t you cook for yourself?” Bryce asked as he sipped at his wine.

Freddie shrugged. “I never really learned how, so I mostly eat take-out and frozen stuff.”

Bryce shook his head. “That’s not good for you. Listen, how about I give you cooking lessons? Would you like that?”

Freddie stared at him with a look that could only be called adoring on his strong-featured face. Bryce wondered silently yet again how he could have been frightened of this man for so long. “You’d do that…for me?” Freddie said, sounding disbelieving.

Bryce nodded. “Sure. I’ll enjoy it, in fact. I love to cook, and it’ll be fun to teach someone else how to do it.”

“You rock, man!” Freddie cried, beaming at him. “I’d love to learn how to cook!”

Bryce nodded. “It’s done, then. In fact, how about for our next date we get to work in the kitchen? Or would you rather do something else?”

Freddie shook his head. Bryce noted silently that his hair was starting to come back in, just a little bit - a mere fuzz on his noble skull at the moment. “No, I’d love to learn how to cook on a date. That sounds amazing.”

His enthusiasm touched Bryce. He smiled. “All right, next date I’ll give you a cooking lesson.”

Freddie looked grateful. “It’s just cool that you’re gonna let me have a second date with you,” he remarked fervently.

Bryce’s brows shot up. “I take it you don’t go on a lot of second dates?”

Freddie shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Nah. Most guys find out what a geek I am, especially when I hit on them using the ‘Drake persona’, and they never call me again.” He blew out a breath in despairing frustration.

Bryce felt sympathy flow through him. “Well, if it helps at all, I really like how geeky you are,” he told Freddie.

He got another incredulous stare for this statement. “You do?!”

Bryce nodded. “I do. I always used to have secret fantasies about going to a comic con or sci fi con and hooking up with ever gay nerd and geek in sight. A total orgy. Of course I’d never act on those fantasies, because I’m really not the type of guy who’d do an actual orgy, but the dirty little fantasies are still here,” he tapped his skull with a wry smile.

Freddie shook his head, bemused. “You’re just so…totally awesome!” he burst out. “I’ve never met another guy like you! Man, I was starting to think being a gay geek was the worst thing that could ever have happened to me, because most of the gay guys that I’ve met only seem to care about big muscles or what I have in my pants.”

“Then you’re meeting the wrong sort of gay man,” Bryce told him. “Though that makes sense, because if you go to clubs and bars that’s all you’re going to find. Guys just looking to hook up anonymously and never call again, who are only interested in hot bodies and big cocks. If you’re a gay man looking for an actual relationship, sometimes the pickings can be pretty slim.”

Freddie was nodding like a bobble-head doll. “Exactly! I’ve always wanted a real boyfriend, but I could never seen to meet anybody who wanted the same thing. Just players looking to get laid. It was so depressing.”

“Indeed. But that’s all behind both of us now, if this thing we’ve started works out,” he pointed out happily.

Freddie looked at him seriously. “Do you think it will?”

“I hope so. Because I really like you, Freddie. You’re a great guy.”

 

To his absolute delight and astonishment, Freddie flushed dark red and looked uncomfortable. Clearly few had ever praised him before, which made Bryce feel sad. Well, from now on he’d be happy to praise Freddie at every turn, especially if it meant he got to see that adorable blush again. Especially on such a big guy, it was so cute it threatened to melt him into a puddle of mush. 

He might have suggested that they adjourn to the bedroom, but just then he felt tiny pinpricks on his ankle. “Oww,” he said, pushing back his chair a little to see a tiny grey-and white kitten staring up at him. It mewped loudly, then tried to pick his ankle again.

“Hey, little guy, I’m not a pincushion,” he chided it, even as he reached down to scoop the kitten up on his lap. 

Freddie chuckled. “Looking for attention, as usual. These little guys are a lot of work, but I love it. They’re just too cute.”

“Yes, they are,” Bryce agreed, scratching at the furry chin with his fingertips. This earned him an ecstasy of purring and wriggling, which made him laugh. 

“That’s one of the ones I decided to keep. I’m thinking of calling him Banjo.”

“Why Banjo?” Bryce asked curiously.

Freddie laughed. “Because he spends all day a pickin’ and a grinnin’,” he told Bryce.

Bryce laughed as well at this comment. “Banjo sounds perfect, then. Have you decided which one of the others you’re going to keep?”

“Well, it’s not easy. They’re all so adorable. At least you made my choice a bit easier by taking the one kitten, but that still leaves me four choices. And I really, REALLY want to keep them all, though I know that’s crazy and not feasible. I’ll just have to choose, though I’ve got a few weeks before I have to make my final decision.”

“I’d do it as soon as possible, or otherwise you will end up keeping all of them because you won’t be able to be parted from them once you’ve grown too attached to them,” Bryce pointed out, tugging lightly at Banjo’s stringy tail.

“You’re right. It’s just so hard! I’ve tried not to give any of them names except for Banjo, because him I’m keeping. But sometimes I can’t stop myself from coming up with names for them in my head, even if I don’t actually call them by those names yet. But you have a point - if I put it off too much longer, I’ll never be able to give any of them away. And I CAN’T keep four cats in my small apartment. There’s not room, for one thing.”

“If you like, I’ll help you,” Bryce offered. “Make your choice, and give away the two you don’t choose. There are plenty of lonely nice older ladies in this very building who’d love a furry companion. I know most of them, so it’ll be easy for me to give the kittens away to someone that I know will love them and take care of them right.”

“I’d love that, thanks, Bryce,” Freddie said, beaming at him again.

Bryce was starting to feel like he was The King of the World, at least in Freddie’s eyes. The man seemed to think he could do no wrong. But was that so bad? It was certainly a better reaction than he’d gotten from most of his past boyfriends, who either thought that he was clingy and needy, or who were honestly just not that into him and were keeping one eye peeled for something better the entire time that they’d dated him. He was going to bask in Freddie’s adoration, and in return he’d take care of the man like no else ever had.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for dessert!

Bryce stroked Banjo’s back, loving the soft purring that was his reward. He stared at Banjo’s human across the tabletop, marveling yet again that he’d once thought that this man was a deadly Mafia hit man. Freddie was smiling at the pair of them, his face relaxed and happy. Although he somewhat resembled his character Drake Armstrong physically, his soul was very definitely a lot different. Bryce had read the graphic novel that Freddie’d given him, and Drake Armstrong was a dark, cold, brooding man who lived in a world of violence and death that was as casual to him as breathing. His author, however, was a sunshiney sort of person who loved kittens and sci fi and homemade cooking. It was sort of strange to him that a man like Drake had come out of the noggin of someone like Freddie.   
“How’d you think up Drake Armstrong in the first place?” He asked curiously. 

Freddie shrugged. “Well, I’ve always loved mobster movies like The Godfather. And movies like Pulp Fiction. I mean, I love video games, shooting things and violence and stuff like that. I guess I’m just an overlarge adolescent like so many other geeks.” He grinned. “So it was just an extension of all of that to come up with a character who was a Mafia hit man. Somebody ultra cool and deadly. Let’s face it - a guy who is the exact opposite of me.”

Bryce chuckled. Hew rose lithely to his feet, anticipation coiling in his belly. He rounded the table, his eyes gleaming. “For what it’s worth,” he purred, “I think that you’re ultra cool yourself. Just as you are.”

Freddie’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Because he suddenly found himself with a lapful of Bryce. He twined his slender arms around Freddie’s neck, and looked down into his face. “You’re wonderful,” Bryce breathed, bringing his mouth closer and closer to Freddie’s. The bigger man had begun to pant helplessly, unable to look away from the light in Bryce’s eyes. “Just…” he let his lips brush Freddie’s, and the other man opened his mouth obediently, “Wonderful.”

Then he drove down and in, going in for a deep kiss. Lips and teeth and tongues merging, coming apart, then together again. Bryce sucked on Freddie’s tongue, and was rewarded with a whimper. His slim hands ran down Freddie’s back, feeling the muscles under the tight black shirt flex as Freddie clutched at him. He writhed sinuously in Freddie’s lap, even as he continued to kiss him. Soft moans drifted through the room. 

“Uh, uh,” Freddie panted as Bryce’s lips lifted off of his at last. “Bryce…” he whispered, looking up into those hungry brown eyes.

“Time for dessert, big boy,” Bryce purred, smiling. 

Freddie surged to his feet, somehow managing to lift Bryce right along with him. Bryce laughed and twined his legs around Freddie’s waist, clinging on. “Where’s your bedroom?” Freddie rasped.

“Over there,” Bryce pointed over his shoulder at a closed door. 

Freddie turned and surged toward the closed door, still carrying Bryce in his arms. He was so strong! Bryce felt giddy as Freddie practically kicked in the door of his bedroom, then carried Bryce inside and dumped him unceremoniously atop the neatly made bed. He joined Bryce there, lying atop him so that he could feel all of that power and strength overwhelming him. He moaned, running his hands down Freddie’s back to grasp his ass and squeeze.

Freddie growled a bit and mashed his mouth over Bryce’s, trying to devour him. Bryce reciprocated, tangling his tongue with Freddie’s. Their bodies rubbed together in a way that made Bryce feel like he was going to combust. Freddie tore his mouth away from Bryce’s, and began to kiss his way down his slender neck. “I want you so bad,” he huffed against Bryce’s skin. 

“So have me, big boy,” Bryce gasped, lifting up so that Freddie could pull his shirt up and bare his naked chest. “Have all of me.”

Another dark sound, and Freddie inched backward so that he could suck a pink nipple into his mouth. Bryce cried out, clutching at the shaven skull as Freddie’s mouth tortured him pleasurably. Teeth lightly nipped at the rucked nipple, and he felt like he might come at any second. Freddie licked a trail down his chest and belly, leaving wetness on his skin. Arriving at the waistband of his slacks, Freddie rolled his eyes up to meet Bryce’s. He blew on the bulge under the cloth, and Bryce lifted his hips and mewled despairingly. He needed out of his pants SO bad!

Fingers began to make quick work of the snap and zipper, as Freddie kneeled up over him. “Can’t wait to see you,” he crooned. “You’re so adorable. So delicious.”

Bryce panted wildly as Freddie yanked his slacks down his hips. Eyes widened then narrowed a little when Bryce’s cock bounced free, no underwear in sight. “Are you going commando…for me?” he asked, looking back up at Bryce’s face.

He felt a blush staining his cheeks. “Maybe,” he said coyly.

Freddie’s lips lifted up of his teeth rather savagely, and Bryce felt a surge of lust and just a little bit of fear. Freddie looked so scary like this - but knowing that he actually wasn’t added a delicious edge of animal lust to Bryce’s arousal, and he made a low sound in the back of his throat as Freddie’s hot eyes raked him, then settled at his groin.  
“Mmm, just like a piece of candy,” he rumbled. “So pink and sweet.”

Bryce whimpered again, and then gurgled as Freddie swooped down and took his cock into his mouth. Oh, God! One big hand curled around the base of his shaft, and the other one held his hip so that he couldn’t move. Freddie’s lips formed an O as he moved up and down Bryce’s length. His shaved head drove down, taking Bryce in completely. The heat and wetness of it was too much for him. He exploded in Freddie’s sucking mouth, and felt the big man swallowing, taking it all in.

Bryce wailed, jerking and spasming as he came. Then he was done, wrecked, lying limply on the bed as Freddie lifted his head and licked at his lips to remove the last traces of semen. “Tasty,” he said, looking as pleased as one of his cats who had just gotten into the canary’s cage. 

“Ohh,” Bryce sighed. “That was so…good.”

“Glad you liked it,” Freddie said, looking pleased. 

“I really did. Now come on up here, big boy, and let me get at you,” Bryce told him, patting his upper chest enticingly.

Freddie hesitated for a moment, but the moved so that he was straddling Bryce’s upper chest. He moved carefully, not putting any weight no Bryce. “Like this?” He asked.

“Mmm hmmm,” Bryce purred, his slim hands lifting to get at the front closure of Freddie’s black jeans. He soon freed a lovely thick cock, proving that Freddie was also going commando this evening. He lifted his head off the bed and sucked that gorgeous piece of meat into his mouth, moaning in rapture as he sucked at it. His hands rose to grab Freddie’s hips and hold him in place, and the other man didn’t object at all. He was too busy moaning as Bryce’s skilled mouth took him in. 

“Oh, shit,” Freddie groaned, and Bryce’s hot eyes met his as the slender man gobbled his cock down voraciously as though he hadn’t eaten in a hundred years and it was a juicy steak. 

Mmm, he loved this. Having a big hard cock in his mouth, listening to the moans and groans of the man above him, watching Freddie’s face twist in ecstasy….Bryce couldn’t get enough. He’d always loved giving blow jobs, but this one was special. This one was Freddie. Her was determined to make the man come in his mouth, and soon. So he provided a tight, wet suction, hollowing his cheeks. Freddie made a low sound, and his mouth opened. His eyes glazed over, and then he was shaking as his hips surged and he began to come down Bryce’s throat.

Freddie slumped over him. “Fuck,” he whispered. 

Bryce lay back, smiling. That had been fun. But he wasn’t allowed to wallow in his pride and pleasure at giving Freddie such a good blow job. Freddie moved, and big hands pulled Bryce down a little. They stripped him ruthlessly of his clothing, and then rolled him over so that he was lying face down on the bedspread. Freddie began to kiss his back, lapping at his kin as he moved downward. Bryce moaned softly, enjoying these attentions. When big hands cradled the cheeks of his ass, he groaned. Especially when thick fingers spread tem, and that hot, wet mouth lazily licked at each cheek before delving downward and in. Bryce cried out into the bedspread as a tongue traced over his twitching hole, then began to lick steadily at it. He lifted his hips up and back, mewling in shocked pleasure. Oh, God! He’d never been rimmed before, not like this. Freddie was greedily devouring his asshole, tonguing and nibbling at it with such wondrous skill that it felt like his head might explode. He’d never felt anything so good before in his entire life. His fingers curled into the spread, gripping at it as he cried out into the cloth and shuddered helplessly.

“Do you have condoms? Lube?” he heard Freddie ask urgently.

“Drawer in the nightstand,” he moaned, and he felt and heard Freddie move away for a moment. Then slick fingers traced his opening, and one shoved in rather rudely. He didn’t care. It felt wonderful. He moaned and lifted his hips, signaling his complete surrender to the invader. 

“Jesus, please just fuck me, Freddie,” he gasped as another finger joined the first, twisting and twining within him. 

“Okay. Just let me…” he heard the sounds of a wrapper tearing, and the spurt of lube being applied. Hands moved him to his knees, his ass in the air. “Ooo, I like this position,” Freddie growled behind him. 

Bryce moaned. He liked it too. A lot. He waited to be plowed, wanting it desperately. He wriggled his ass invitingly, then yelp/moaned as something thick and hard breeched him and began to push in. “Yes, just like that!” he cried.

Freddie’s hands gripped his hips as he pushed inward, taking Bryce, filling him. He felt scratchy pubic hair against his ass as Freddie pushed in completely, right to the hilt. Bryce whimpered and pushed backward, wanting more, wanting everything. Freddie began to move, small thrusts that weren’t doing much for him. He begged, he pleaded, he wailed in his need to be ruthlessly plowed, and finally Freddie let loose and began to give him what he wanted. Long, hard, driving strokes, and his prostate nailed on each inward push. 

He cried out over and over, unable to move as Freddie’s big hands held him in place and Freddie’s big cock fucked him into the bedspread. His back arched, and he felt a huge swelling of pleasure rising within him. He knew he was going to come, and soon, though he hadn’t touched himself. He was going blind, deaf, lost in the rising tidal wave…

Then it crashed over him, tumbling him over and over as he came until he simply couldn’t anymore. He crashed face down on the bed, panting and whining softly in the back of his throat as he felt Freddie lunge one last time into him and heard a low roar as Freddie came within him. 

Oh, man, was he dead? At this point, he simply didn’t care. Because, hell, what a way to go! Bryce lay in a wet spot of his own mess, uncaring about anything and unable to move. He’d been fucked into an inert mass, and he loved it. Best sex he’d ever had, bar none. And boy, did he want to do it again soon!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The romantic gesture of kittens

Bryce moaned low in his throat. He was straddling Freddie’s massive muscled thighs, and his new lover’s big hands were holding his narrow hips. One of Bryce’s slim hands was down between them, holding their cocks together, and he stroked both hard lengths together at once.   
Both men moaned, and Freddie buried his face in Bryce’s neck and began to lick at the sweating skin tenderly. Sharp teeth delicately bit at one of the tendons in his throat, and Bryce shuddered as he quickened the movements of his hand. God, he loved the feel of Freddie’s large cock rubbing and frotting against his own, and he adored the way that Freddie was holding him so tightly. He felt safe and protected, cradled in Freddie’s strong arms.   
He was close. He could feel it. “Gonna…come…” he gaped, rocking his hips a little in Freddie’s hold.

“Come, then,” Freddie husked. “Cause I’m close, too. I want to come with you.”

Bryce cried out and tightened his hold to the point of pain, rubbing up and down as hard as he could. That did it. His cock began to spurt, and Freddie groaned against his neck and began to come, too. Their combined semen splattered their chest and stomachs as both men shuddered and stilled, panting and gasping for breath. 

“Oh, oh,” Bryce gasped. “Oh, man.”

“Yeah,” Freddie agreed throatily. His hands massaged and squeezed the cheeks of Bryce’s ass. “That was amazing, Bryce.”

Bryce pulled back a little and planted a kiss on Freddie’s cheek.   
“Definitely,” he agreed. “But I think we need to get cleaned up now.”

Freddie nodded, glancing down at their semen splattered torsos. “Do you have a towel?”

“Let’s taker a shower together,” Bryce told him, climbing off of his lap carefully. “We can wash each others’ backs.”

“Sounds great,” Freddie said, climbing off of his bed as well. His huge body was so beautiful that Bryce just stood there for a minute staring. Damn, he was one fine hunk of man! And he was all Bryce’s. 

He yipped in surprise as he found himself swept up into Freddie’s arms. The big man began to carry him toward the bathroom. Bryce decided that this was incredibly romantic, and merely wound his arms around Freddie’s neck and hung on as he was carried into his bathroom. Freddie bent his head to kiss Bryce’s mouth, and they both got so distracted that they almost forgot about taking a shower. But eventually they ended up standing naked together under the hot water, and that was very nice. They did wash each others’ backs, and certain other parts as well. Bryce felt clean and rather tired by the time that they stepped out of his shower. He yawned charmingly, blinking.

“I should go,” Freddie remarked reluctantly. “You’re tired. You need to get some sleep. And I need to take the kitties home and get them settled for the night.”

Bryce felt disappointment flash through him, but he knew that Freddie couldn’t stay for the night. He had five kittens to look after. Besides, this had only been their first date. Sure, they’d had sex, but sleeping together was an even more intimate act. Perhaps they should go a little slower where that was concerned. “Okay,” he said. “Do you want to come over tomorrow night and get a cooking lesson?”

Freddie brightened up immediately at this suggestion. “I’d love that! Do you want me to bring the kittens over again, too?”

“Of course. I love them,” Bryce told him happily.

Freddie beamed at him, before he wandered over to retrieve his clothes off the bed and the floor. Bryce started to get dressed in his nightclothes, a pair of checked flannel pants and a worn t-shirt with a big smilie face on the front. He idly watched as Freddie pulled on his clothes, admiring that massive muscled form. And it was all his! He smiled widely. Yes, all his. Every yummy bit. Especially that ass. He sighed a little as Freddie’s gorgeous ass disappeared under the black denim. He could have stared at that ass 24/7. 

They went out into the living room together. The kittens came and squeaked under their feet, wanting attention. Bryce sank down in a crouch and petted up a storm, as the kitten crawled on him and Freddie picked up their box so that he could put the kittens in it. “Hey, do you want to keep your kitten?” He asked above Bryce’s head. “Now that you’ve got the stuff for him.”

Bryce liked the sound of that. If he couldn’t sleep with Freddie tonight, he could at least curl up with his adorable new pet. “Sure,” he said, scooping up his kitten and holding it him to his cheek. “Me and Scooter will have a good night, thinking of you,” he added, his eyes twinkling.

“Scooter?” Freddie asked, his lips twitching. 

Bryce nodded. “He just looks like a Scooter,” he explained.

Freddie chuckled. “You’re so cute, Bryce,” he said, smiling.

Bryce shrugged and kissed his kitten right on his furry little face. “So is Scooter.”

Freddie scooped up the rest of the protesting kittens and dumped them in the box. Then he came over to claim a long kiss from Bryce, before they went to the door together. Bryce opened the door for him and watched him walk away toward his apartment. 

Bryce hummed to himself dreamily as he closed his apartment door. He lifted the kitten in his hands up to his eyes. “Little fellah, your daddy is a very happy man right now,” he told the tiny creature.

Scooter the kitten squeaked and squirmed in his hold, clearly not impressed. Bryce laughed and nuzzled the kitten’s face. “Let’s go to bed, sweetie,” he said. He yawned. “I’m a bit tired. Freddie wore me out.”

He bore Scooter off to the bedroom, still smiling. The kitten padded up and down on the bed for a few minutes after Bryce climbed under his covers, but after that he came and curled up next to Bryce’s head on the pillow. Soon, his rusty purring filled the room and lulled Bryce off into a deep, contented sleep.

 

“So you add the bacon that you diced and browned in the pan,” Bryce said.  
Freddie, who was standing behind him watching his every move, nodded eagerly. “I love bacon,” he remarked.

“Who doesn’t? Well, except for vegetarians.”

“I can’t imagine being a vegetarian,” Freddie said with a grimace. “I love meat, man.”

“I’ve noticed that,” Bryce remarked impishly, giving him a sultry look over his shoulder and fluttering his eyelashes seductively.

Freddie turned a bit red, but the look in his eyes made Bryce’s breath catch. He really needed to finish this cooking lesson and drag Freddie off to the bedroom for another sort of cooking altogether…

 

Later, stretched out gloriously naked half-atop Freddie’s huge form, Bryce sighed contentedly. He ran a finger down Freddie’s breast bone. “I don’t get why guys aren’t lining up to be with you,” he murmured. “You’re terrific in the sack, Freddie.”

“Well, guys were lined up to have sex with me. It’s just that they weren’t much interested in me afterward, when they’d gotten what they wanted. I guess I’m too geeky for most gay men.”

“Their loss,” Bryce replied. He kissed Freddie’s left nipple. “My gain,” he added, smiling.

Freddie’s fingers sifted through his sweat-dampened hair. “It’s so nice to finally meet someone who likes me just the way I am,” Freddie said, his hand running down Bryce’s bare back possessively.

“Ditto,” Bryce said, patting his chest a bit. “Some guys have all of these expectations of you, you know? They have a picture in their heads of what you should be like. There’s nothing better than a person who likes you just as you are. There’s also nothing more romantic.”

“So it’s okay if I don’t always like bring you flowers and stuff like that?” Freddie asked, sounding rather anxious.

Bryce laughed and sat up. He leaned over his new lover, reaching out to cradle Freddie’s cheek in his hand. Looking into those worried eyes, grinned. “Freddie, sweetheart, you brought me kittens. There is NOTHING more romantic than that! You’re set for romantic gestures for at LEAST the next year, maybe more!”

Freddie brightened up at his words. He pulled a giggling Bryce back down onto his chest. “That’s good to know,” he breathed in his ear. “Is it also okay if I give you geeky stuff, like comic books and action figures and stuff like that?”

“I think I can handle that,” Bryce remarked, squirming atop him deliberately to make Freddie gasp. “But for right now, how’s about you give me something else, big boy?”

Freddie groaned and captured his lips in a deep kiss. “You’ll be the death of me, I think,” he mumbled against Bryce’s lips.

“Ah, but honey, what a way to go,” Bryce replied cheekily, before all talking stopped in the bedroom for some time. 

 

“”This is my favorite Doctor,” Bryce remarked to the big man currently sprawled on his living room floor. 

“He’s lots of people’s favorite Doctor. Tom Baker is the man.”

“I just like the scarf. I think that this incarnation of the Doc is gay,” Bryce said, watching the TV screen. Freddie had brought over his Doctor Who collection for them to watch after his most recent cooking lesson. He was coming along quickly; he hadn’t burned a single thing this time. Bryce had high hopes for him. 

Scooter squirmed in Bryce’s lap, indicating that he needed to get down. Bryce set him on the floor, and the kitten scurried off to use his litter box. Freddie was contemplating what Bryce had just said. “You may be right,” he mused. “I suppose this Doc could be gay. Which would be fabulous, wouldn’t it? I’d definitely do him,” he remarked with a grin.

Bryce chuckled. “Me, too. He’s hot. And that big nose says something about him that if true would be even hotter,” he wagged his eyebrows suggestively, which sent Freddie off into gales of laughter. 

Bryce smiled, leaning back on the couch. He never would have imagined before this that he’d enjoy a simple stay-in date like this more than he would have going out to dinner and a movie. But this took all of the stress out of the evening. They didn’t have to make small talk over bread sticks, and put on their best faces for each other. They could just be themselves, relax, and enjoy each other’s company. He already felt more comfortable with Freddie than he ever had with any other man before this. And, of course, the sex was fabulous. What a lovely combination! Everybody should get their own personal geek. The world would be a far better place if they did.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kitten giveway, a bit of old lady gossip, and a friend vetting-to-be...

“So what do you say, Mrs. Johnson?” Bryce said coaxingly. 

“I don’t know, Dear…” The elderly lady said, hesitating. “I mean, I’m older. I don’t know how long I’ll last. I’m not sure that taking on a pet at my age…”

“Please don’t worry about it, Mrs. Johnson,” Bruce reassured her. “If something happens to you, I’ll make sure that the kitty gets a good home with someone else. But I know that you’re kind of lonely, living by yourself. Your family doesn’t come and visit you as often as they should. Having a companion would be good for you. And I know that you worry about taking care of the little fellah, because of your arthritis. But I’ll get you a self-cleaning litter box, and those big food and water dishes so that they only have to be filled like once a week. And I thought you could get the lady who comes in to clean your apartment to fill them and change the liner on the litter box for you, so you don’t have to stoop. All you’ll have to do is give your kitty lots of cuddles, and I’m sure that you can do that.” he lifted the kitten in his lap to his cheek for emphasis, and watched her old eyes brighten at the sight of the adorable furry creature. It squirmed and meowed, wanting to be let down so it could run around on the floor.

“Well…” Clearly she wanted to say yes, but was still hesitating a bit for form’s sake. “I suppose I could, Dear…”

“That’s the spirit!” Bryce cried, beaming at her. “Here,” he got up off the smaller couch and brought her the kitten, depositing the little creature in her lap. Her gnarled old hands ran over its furry body gently. The kitten began to purr, curling up on her lap in a ball.

“See! He likes you!” Bryce cried happily.

“Yes, he seems to,” she agreed, her lips turning up in a delighted smile.

“What are you going to all him?” Bryce asked her curiously.

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps…Cecil?”

“Cecil?” Bryce repeated, trying not to laugh and hurt her feelings.

“Oh, yes, Dear. He reminds me of my Uncle Cecil. He was a very…hirsute man, and he had lots of energy as well.”

“Okay. Cecil it is, then,” Bryce said in satisfaction. “I’ll go right out and buy all of those kitty supplies for you, and deliver them a bit later.” he sprang up from the couch again, ready and raring to go on his errand now that he’d found the last kitten a home.

She smiled at him. “Thank you, Bryce. You’re such a sweet boy. And Do thank your..err…special friend as well, won’t you? I know he was the one with the kittens.”

Bryce choked a bit. “Special friend?” he asked weakly, his eyes practically bugging out of his head.

Mrs. Johnson smiled again. “Yes. That nice boy who lives next door to you. Such a big fellow! But then, you can never tell, Dear. About which men prefer the company of their own, I mean. Well, sometimes you can,” She added apologetically, looking Bryce in the eye. His jaw dropped. 

“Y-You know that I’m gay?” he quavered. “And that… I’m dating my next door neighbor?”

She nodded. “Of course, Dear. The whole building knows. Nothing moves faster than gossip, especially among a bunch of old ladies who have nothing to do all day but talk. We were all SO pleased when we realized that you’d found someone special. You’ve been looking so happy, lately, Dear, it’s just wonderful.”

He was flummoxed. But he should have known! The old ladies in his building were all eagle-eyed things, on the look-out for any bit of gossip. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He asked tentatively. “That I’m gay, I mean?”

“Why should it, Dear? One of my nephews is the same way, and he has a perfectly lovely companion that he brings to see me sometimes. I must admit that I’d hoped that you’d find someone nice like my Stephen has. Your last…companion didn’t seem very nice,” She added with a grimace.

“He wasn’t,” Bryce agreed grimly. “Fortunately, my next door neighbor ran him off for me.”

“Oh, good for him. He seems like a fine young man. Is he making you happy, My Dear?”

“Yeah,” Bryce said softly. “He really is.”

She nodded in satisfaction. “Then that’s settled. And I’ll be happy to take this little fellow off of his hands. You’re right, Dear. I do need a friend in my old age. I HAVE been lonely lately,” she picked the kitten up and held him to her cheek, as he squeaked a bit in protest. 

“Great. I’ll just go and get that shopping done,” Bryce said, feeling a little dazed. It was kind of weird to think that all of the little old ladies in the building gossiped happily about his love life, especially since he was gay. He rose to his feet, leaving Mrs. Johnson with her new pet. 

 

He pulled out his cell phone as he walked down the hallway toward the elevator. He hit Freddie’s number, listening to the ringing until his new boyfriend picked up on the other end. “Bryce? Hi!” Freddie said. He was working at his comic book store; Saturdays were his most profitable day of the week, so his store was closed Sundays and Mondays.

“Freddie. I just wanted to call and tell you that I gave away the last kitten just now,” he told Freddie. 

“Oh, man, that’s awesome! Good job, Bryce!”

He preened a little. “Mrs. Johnson will take good care of him. Oh, by the way - turns out every person in the building knows about us. Seems like all of those little old ladies knew that I was gay, and also somehow they figured out that you and I are going out. And they’re really happy about it, which is good. I guess.”

Stunned silence on the other end of the phone. Bryce found himself giggling as he imagined Freddie’s expression. “I know,” he said. “I was totally stunned when Mrs. Johnson casually mentioned it. But I should have known. Nobody is better than old ladies at noticing everything that goes on around them, because they have nothing better to do than to watch the people around them and then exchange gossip about them. And I don’t really care, as long as they’re not talking about our sex life…” he shuddered elaborately. “What a horrible thought THAT is!”

“Ergh,” Freddie said over the phone, obviously imagining a bunch of grandmas discussing their sex life, too. 

“I know, right? Anyway, I’m on my way to buy food and feeders and a self-cleaning litter box for Mrs. Johnson, and I’ll get those set up for her so she doesn’t have to try to do any of it herself. She has pretty bad arthritis, but she has a lady who cleans her apartment for her who can take care of the kitten for her. She seemed really happy. She named the kitten Cecil, after an uncle.”

“Cecil?” Freddie said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cute. And who am I to say? I named my kitten Scooter.”

“You have a point,” Freddie remarked. “Anyway, great job on giving away the last of the little guys. Now I don’t have to worry about ‘em anymore. You rock, Bryce.”

He felt warm and happy at this sincere praise. “Thanks. I’ll see you tonight, right?”

“You sure will. I’ll bring the stuff to make that recipe we were talking about. I can’t wait.”

“And I can’t wait for afterward, and ‘dessert’,’ Bryce thought to himself with a sexy mental chuckle. 

“Should I bring over more of my Doctor Who DVDs, or should we watch something else?” Freddie asked him, bringing him out of his lustful thoughts.

 

“How about something else? Your choice. You’re the geek, here. I trust your taste on sci fi,” Bryce told him.

“Cool. Maybe some Firefly. I think you’ll like it, and the captain of the Firefly is yummy as hell.”

“Ooo, sounds good. Eye candy is always a plus.”

“I agree. I’ll see you around six-thirty or so.”

“Scooter and I will be waiting,” Bryce assured him.

“I’ll bring Banjo and Fleabait with me so they can hang out.”

“Done. See you then,” Bryce hung up his phone, feeling great. He had another stay-at-home date to look forward to tonight, with plenty of hot sex, good food, and interesting sci fi. Also, kittens. It was almost a little too much for one man to take, but he wasn’t going to complain. Like, at all! 

 

He was in the Petsmart, buying stuff for the newly christened Cecil, when his phone buzzed at him, Pulling it out, he saw that it was a call from Simon. He tapped the phone and set it to his ear. “Hey, Simon. What’s up?”

“What’s up is that I haven’t seen you for almost a month,” his friend said severely in his left ear. “What’s going on, Bry?”

He felt a little bit guilty, but shrugged it off. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Freddie,” he admitted. 

“Ah, the geek? That still going on?”

“Yeah. In fact, it’s going really well. I really like him.”

Silence for a moment on the other end of the phone. Then: “Yeah? You’re really serious about him?”

“I think I might be,” Bryce admitted. 

“All right. Then it’s time for him to be vetted by your friends.”

He groaned silently. “Ummm…”

“No, no. I can practically hear you thinking of ways to get out of it, but you can’t. We want to make sure that you end up with a guy who’s right for you. A guy who’ll take good care of you. Until we know that this Freddie is good for you, you know we’ll worry.”

He sighed. He knew that that was true. He didn’t want his friends to worry, not after some of the shitty boyfriends that he’d had in the past. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “I’ll run it by Freddie tonight, and then call you about us all getting together so you guys can meet Freddie.”

“Excellent. I’ll look forward to it,” Simon said, and something in his voice made Bryce cringe. Simon was going to grill Freddie. He just hoped that his new boyfriend wouldn’t be scared off by his friends. But he thought that Freddie was pretty courageous. Hopefully he wouldn’t let himself be intimidated by Simon.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the vetting begin!

Bryce was feeling apprehensive. He walked into the bar with Freddie just behind him, like a tiny tug boat towing an enormous oil tanker. His eyes searched the darkened room, and finally landed on his friends sitting in a booth and waving to them. He swallowed thickly. “There they are,” he told Freddie. “Over there in that booth.”

“Okay,” Freddie sounded even more nervous than he felt. And why shouldn’t he? He was about to be vetted by his new boyfriend’s overprotective friends. He had a lot riding on this. It was always wise to get the friends on your side if you could. He had to be sweating bullets by now.

Bryce headed for the booth, feeling a bit comforted by Freddie’s large presence just behind him. Not that the gentle giant was going to beat up on his friends or something like that if this turned ugly; but he still felt better just having Freddie nearby. “Hey, guys,” he called over the music playing over the speakers in the ceiling. 

“Bryce! You’re late. We’ve already started drinking,” Simon called back as he rose to his feet. He eyed Freddie like a shark would eye a bit of chum. “Hello, big boy. You must be Freddie,” he purred, stepping forward and holding out his hand.

“Uh, h-hi.” Freddie stuttered, tentatively taking Simon’s hand.

“Id like to say we’ve heard a lot about you, but since our boy Bryce has been incommunicado for the last month, I really can’t,” Simon remarked sardonically.

Bryce felt guilty, which had been Simon’s intent, of course. Simon patted Freddie’s arm. “Sit down, big guy. Let’s talk.”

Freddie looked rather alarmed, glancing over at Bryce. Bryce touched his arm and guided him over to the booth, sliding in next to him. Simon sat down on the other side of the booth with Ethan and Josh, his eyes never leaving Freddie’s face. “So, Freddie,” he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. 

Freddie swallowed heavily. “Uh, yes?”

“What do you like…to drink?” Simon asked roguishly, an evil smile on his face.

“Oh. Uh, beer will be fine,” Freddie replied.

“Beer?” Simon’s voice was slightly contemptuous. “All right, then. Bryce, will you have your usual?”

“Yeah,” Bryce said, giving his friend a warning glance. He didn’t want Simon browbeating Freddie. 

Simon raised an arm, getting the attention of a waiter and ordering a round of drinks for the table. Ethan and Josh both looked curiously at Freddie.   
“Bryce said that you were big, but that’s an understatement,” Ethan remarked to him.

Freddie shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “I can’t help being this way. Although I suppose I could stop working out if I want to be a bit smaller.”  
Bryce nudged his arm. “Don’t you dare!” he chided his boyfriend. “I like your muscles. Though you can step down your work-outs like you said you were going to, because leaner muscles would be good, too. Though whatever you do,” he added with a sultry look at the bigger man, “You’ll still be hot. Even if you never work out again.”

Freddie flushed but looked pleased, as Josh giggled. “Gosh, you two are adorable,” he said, his hand stroking Ethan’s arm possessively. 

“Yes, adorable,” Simon snorted. Josh gave him an annoyed look as Simon leveled an assessing stare on Freddie. “So, Freddie. What do you do?” Simon asked.

“Umm, I own a comic book store. And I write a series of comic books about a mafia hit man, too,” he went on.

Simon’s brows rose delicately. “A comic book store?” he repeated, his lip curling slightly. “Isn’t that a bit…I don’t know…teenager-y for a man your age?”

Freddie flushed again, this time in embarrassment, as Bryce glared at his friend. “I think it’s awesome!” he defended his boyfriend stoutly. “And his comic book is really cool. I’ve read all of them.”

“Humph. So how much money do you make, selling comic books? I can’t imagine that you’re ever going to be a millionaire,” Simon said coolly, still gazing coolly at poor Freddie, who was squirming.

“No, but I actually do pretty well. There’s a lot of guys - and some girls - out there who like comic books.”

“I’m sure. How many of them live I their mothers’ basements?” Simon drawled.

“Why does it matter?” Bryce demanded, putting his hand over Freddie’s and stroking his fingers. “As long as they’ve got money to buy what Freddie’s selling, who cares where they live or what they do?”

Simon tossed his head, but didn’t reply at first because the waiter strolled up with their drinks. Freddie grabbed his beer like a lifeline and sucked it down in a single gulp, his face red. Poor guy was feeling embattled, and Bryce was starting to get angry. Simon shouldn’t be harassing Freddie like this. While he could be bitchy normally, he was in ultra bitch queen mode tonight. If Bryce didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that Simon was jealous of Freddie. But if he wasn’t, what the hell was wrong with him?

“So, what kind of hobbies do you have, Freddie?” Simon said suddenly, resuming his attack. Freddie jumped. 

“Err…I…umm…read comic books,” he muttered, his face flaming. “And go to Cons, and watch TV shows, mainly sci fi, and…”

Simon’s lip curled. “So you’re as bad as your clientele?” he said bitchily. “Bryce is just lucky that YOU don’t live in your mother’s basement.”

Bryce felt rage rising up in him, as Freddie paled and looked miserable. His eyes fell to the tabletop, and he twiddled the mostly empty beer bottle between his fingers. Bryce leaned forward. “Simon? Can I talk to you I private?” he snarled.

Simon gave him a shuttered look, but shrugged. “Whatever.”

“We’ll be right back, honey. Order another beer and relax,” Bryce said, stroking Freddie’s arm comfortingly. He leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, trying to silently convey to his boyfriend all that he felt for him. Freddie perked up a little, and threw him a grateful look as Bryce dragged Simon off with him way from the table.

They went down the short hallway that led to the bathrooms, and Bryce whirled around to confront Simon. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” he spat furiously. “Why are you treating Freddie this way?! He’s a great guy, and I won’t let you cut him to pieces. We’ll leave before that happens, Simon, and I swear that I’ll never talk to you again if you keep this up!”  
Simon’s mouth opened in shock, then slowly closed again. He lowered his head, and sighed,. “I’m sorry, Bry,” he said.

Bryce felt his tense muscles loosen a little. “Why are you acting like this, Simon?” He asked softly.

Simon looked up at him through his lashes. “I guess...I’m jealous, Bry,” he admitted quietly.

Bryce frowned. “Jealous? Of Freddie?”

Simon shook his head. “No. Jealous of you having a guy like Freddie, “he replied sadly.

Bryce’s mouth fell open. “You’re…but why, Simon? You’ve never been jealous of any of my boyfriends before.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Bry, but none of your other boyfriends were anything to write home to mother about,” Simon told him dryly. “I guess I liked knowing that while I didn’t have anybody special, you didn’t either. But now you’ve got this great guy, this huge hunk of man, and Ethan and Josh have each other, and I don’t have…anybody.”

He sounded miserable. Bryce didn’t know what to say. He’d never imagined before this that his man-slut of a friend would even WANT something other than a string of one-night stands. To find out that Simon was jealous of his wonderful new relationship astonished him. “I…I never thought that you’d care, Simon,” he said out loud. “I mean, you never have before. You’ve always just gone from man-to-man, and you never seemed unhappy about it…”

“I never have been, not ‘til lately,” Simon confessed. “But for awhile now, I’ve started to think about having other things. I mean, Ethan and Josh can be nauseating, but sometimes when they’re all wrapped up in each other I’ve started to kind of feel wistful. Like I’d like somebody to do that with me, you know? But it didn’t get bad until you started going on and on about this neighbor guy, and how much you liked him, and everything…and then, when you came in tonight, I could tell that you two are head-over-heels for each other. You look at him like he’s the answer to all of your wildest dreams. And I felt sick with jealousy. I ever would have imagined it, wither, but suddenly I want something like that for myself. And the worst part of all is that I’m not really sure how to go about getting it.”

Bryce gave him a helpless look. “You could try dating, you know…” he began tentatively.

Simon snorted. “Do I look like the type of guy who’d be good at dating, Bry?” he asked dryly.

“Yeah, but if you don’t try how can you get what you want? Hitting on guys in bars and clubs isn’t going to help you find Mr. Right, believe me. All it’ll get you is some quick sex, with no strings attached. And you say that you don’t want that anymore, so your only option is to try dating. Whether you’re good at it or not.”

Simon sighed. “I suppose. I’m just afraid that I’ll be no good at it. That I’ll put guys off.”

“You won’t know that unless you actually give it a try,” Bryce pointed out sensibly.

“You’re right. God, why does this whole thing scare me so much?” Simon said, running a hand through his hair distractedly. 

It was Bryce’s turn to snort. “It scares everybody, Simon. It’s never easy to try to find someone to love, believe me. Look at how many crappy boyfriends I had before I met Freddie. But it’s wroth it in the long run, because there’s always hope that you’ll find somebody who makes you happy. And then it’s all worth it. Every bit, even the bad parts.”

His sincere words made Simon stare at him. “You really believe that,” he said slowly.

Bryce nodded. “I do. I believe in love, and finding the person who’s just right for you. I even believed it when I couldn’t find that special person. And now that I HAVE, it really does make it all worthwhile. Give it a try, Simon. You never know what can happen.”

“Thanks, Bry. You know what? I will. If you can find somebody that hunky, I’m sure that I can find an Adonis,” Simon said with a cheeky grin.

Bryce snorted in laughter. “Well, at least anybody who dates you won’t have to worry about the size of your ego, Simon,” he teased.

“Among other things,” Simon said with a wink.

Bryce grinned. “Okay, then. Now that we’ve got this sorted out, let’s go back to the table. But you have to be nice to Freddie,” he added sternly.

Simon held up a hand. “I will, I will. Scout’s honor,” he told Bryce.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions of love

The evening went much better after that. Simon behaved himself(well, relatively, anyway), and even teased Freddie in a much less bitchy way. He did continue to interrogate Freddie a bit, however. Bryce allowed this more benign questioning, because he knew that Simon worried about him and wanted to know whether Freddie was good enough for Bryce. He was pleased when his boyfriend passed the test with flying colors. He knew that Freddie had passed when Simon gave over questioning him, and coaxed the big lug onto the dance floor instead. Freddie went reluctantly, and Bryce could see why he didn’t want to dance when he saw Freddie involuntarily doing ‘the robot’, because he was so awkward and uncoordinated.

He giggled, then felt bad about it when Freddie threw him a desperate, pleading glance. Bryce decided he’d better go save his boyfriend, so he slid out of the booth and headed onto the dance floor. But since it was so packed and he wasn’t very big, he had to struggle through the press. But finally he arrived at where Simon was writhing and Freddie was kind of jerking in place. Freddie looked horribly uncomfortable, because Simon was swaying his hips back and forth in a way that meant that their groins were practically touching. He kept jerking back to make sure that this didn’t happen, and his expression was so pained that Bryce had to clamp his teeth shut on another giggle. 

“Hey, Simon,” he called loudly, because the thumping bass dance music was pretty high volume, “I’ve come to rescue Freddie. Find some other stud to dance with, all right? He’s mine.”

Simon grinned and tossed his head. “Geez, way to be all jealous, Bry. Okay, then. Take your man-mountain away. I’m sure that I can find somebody else to dance with,” and he slid into the crowd on the floor like an eel, leaving the two of them facing each other. “Thanks,” Freddie mouth, the relief on his face acute. 

Bryce jerked his head at the edge of the dance floor rather than trying to dance anymore, and Freddie parted the crowd like Moses had parted the Red Sea with his size and dangerous looks, because none of these other men knew that he was a giant, harmless teddy bear of a man. They finally got free of the crowd, and Bryce stood on tiptoe to talk into Freddie’s ear. “Do you want to go? We could make excuses and get out of here if you want.”

“No,” Freddie surprised him by replying. “We can stay awhile longer. I like your friends.”

Bryce felt his heart swell. He stood on tiptoes and kissed Freddie’s mouth. “You’re so sweet, Freddie,” he told his boyfriend.

Much to his delight, Freddie turned a little red. Bryce giggled and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go back to the table. We’ll leave Simon to his dance floor flirting.”

 

They returned to the booth, where Freddie ordered another beer and Bryce got a tasty pink drink with lots of fruit in it. They chatted with Ethan and Josh, who were excited about the house they were buying together. Their little love nest, as they called it. Freddie was obviously interested and asked a lot of questions. Bryce was bored, but concealed it to not hurt his friends’ feelings. The evening sped pleasantly by, but finally Bryce decided he’d had enough of his friends vetting his boyfriend and decided to take Freddie home for some well-deserved ’after vetting’ sex. He rose lithely to his feet. “Okay, guys, Freddie and I have got to go,” he said over the music.

“Ugh,” Simon said, grimacing. “Why is it that all of the ‘married’ couples always turn in early? Does being a couple sap your energy and age you prematurely?”

Ethan and Josh snorted in disgust, almost in tandem, as Bruce laughed. “Nope. We leave early so we can go home and have sex, because unlike you, Simon, we’re not interested in having it in the backroom of a place like this. Right, guys?” he asked Ethan and Josh.

Vigorous head nodding from both men. “In fact, if you guys are leaving, Josh and I will get going, too. We’re tired; we want to turn in early,” Ethan said with a faint leer at his partner.

Simon groaned. “I’m being abandoned!”

“You’ll live,” Bryce told his heartlessly as he watched Freddie lever his massive form up out of the booth. 

Simon pouted, but it had no effect on his friends. But his childish ire was short-lived anyway, because a hot guy drifted up to their table and unerringly honed in on the only single guy there. “Hey,” he purred, smiling lasciviously down at Simon. “You wanna dance?”

Simon’s eyes lit up. “Yeah. Let’s go!” he jumped to his feet, and waved a careless hand at his friends. “See you guys…much later,” he added, before going off with the hottie to writhe on the dance floor. 

Bryce shook his head. “Looks like Simon’s gonna be just fine,” he remarked as the four of them left the club. 

“He always is,” Josh said. “But what did you say to him earlier to make him behave, Bry? He was being really bitchy to your boyfriend, but then he just stopped.”

Bryce glanced at Freddie, who was staring down at him. “Turns out that Simon was a bit jealous of my man,” he said with a smile for Freddie. “He says he wants one of his own. I can’t blame him - my guy is awesome,” he added, reaching out to caress Freddie’s arm with his fingers.

Freddie blushed, while Ethan and Josh looked surprised at Bryce’s words. “Simon wants to settle down?” Ethan said incredulously.

“So he says. I just think he doesn’t know how to go about it. He knows how to pick up one-night stands and get blow jobs in back alleys, but he doesn’t know the first thing about dating.”

“Maybe we can help him there,” Josh remarked.

“Maybe. We could give it a try, anyway. Look, we’ll see you guys later. Call me?”

We will, Bry. Have a good night, you two. Freddie, it was really nice to meet you,” Ethan said.

“It was nice meeting you guys, too. I really enjoyed myself,” Freddie told them earnestly.

“He’s so adorable, Bry! You’ve definitely got a keeper,” Josh gushed, smiling at Freddie.

Bryce smiled, too. “I definitely do, yes,” he agreed happily.

 

They barely made it back to his apartment before Bryce lunged at Freddie like a maniac. He tried to climb his boyfriend as he kissed Freddie hungrily, his tongue invading that sweet mouth as the big man moaned for him. Freddie’s strong hands held him up by the ass, and they necked as they stumbled toward Bryce’s bedroom together. Freddie lurched through the door And tossed Bryce on the bed, disturbing Scooter, who’d been taking a nap atop the bedcovers. The kitten hissed and spat, clawing at Bryce, who yelped and rolled away before he got slashed boy those sharp claws. “Hey, little guy, I’m so sorry,” Freddie said contritely, scooping up the angry, frightened kitten and soothing him tenderly.

Bryce shook his head. “So he’s more important than me, the injured party?” he held up his hand, which bore three scratches. 

“No, you’re both important. But I did almost crush him to death by tossing you on the bed without looking,” Freddie pointed out, his fingers soothing the multi-colored fur as Scooter settled down in his hands. 

Bryce had to concede that this was true. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, I think he’ll be all right. Here, little fellah, go to your slave.” he handed the kitten to Bryce, who took over soothing duties. 

“His slave?” Bryce remarked, still petting his kitten.

Freddie nodded, smiling. “People are just slaves to their cats, you know that,” he told Bryce. 

“I suppose that’s true. Ah, well. I’m a good slave,” he raised the kitten to his face and bussed his pink nose. “There, sweetheart. Now off you go so that your daddy and his boyfriend can make sweet, sweet love together,” he put Scooter on the floor, and the kitten scampered away out the door of the bedroom.

Freddie sat down on the edge of the bed. “I like your friends, Bryce,” he said. 

“I’m glad. I think that they’ve become your friends, too, if you can handle that,” Bryce told him as he slid over the bedspread to twine himself around Freddie’s large form.

“That sounds great. I’ve got a couple of friends, too, that I’d like to introduce you to,” Freddie told him, as he settled his hands at Bryce’s waist.

“I’d love that. I’ll charm your friends,” Bryce snuggled in and licked at Freddie’s neck like his kitten.

Freddie breathed in heavily. “You’d just have to be yourself to charm them,” he said on a croak.

Bryce felt warmth surge through him. God, he was really starting to love this guy! He was so sweet, so tender, and he obviously adored Bryce. You just couldn’t ask for more. He wrapped his arms around Freddie’s neck. “Would it be bad,” he murmured against Freddie’s lips, “If I said that I think I love you?”

Freddie stiffened. His eyes widened. “Really?” He breathed, sounding astonished.

“Really, big guy. You’re just so amazing, I can’t help myself.” Bryce kissed his lips lightly, trying to show all that he was feeling with that soft touch. 

“Oh, man. Bryce, I don’t...I don’t deserve it, but I’m so glad. And I love you, too. I love you so much. I think I’ve been in love with you ever since I saw you in the hallway almost a year ago, looking so cute and sweet and staring at me like you’d seen a monster that was coming to eat you.”

Bryce giggled helplessly. “I thought you were a mafia hit man at the time,” he pointed out. “I was scared to death of you. How could I know under this frightening exterior beats the heart of one of the sweetest geeks on the planet? I’m so glad that we got that misunderstanding cleared up, or otherwise I probably would have never given you the time of day.”

“Me, too,” Freddie said fervently. “I’m so lucky.”

“No, I’m the lucky one, big guy,” Bryce assured him. “And I’ll never forget that, believe me.”

 

Freddie smiled and pushed Bryce down on the bed then, descending atop him and caging him ever-so-deliciously under that big body. Bryce twined his legs over Freddie’s back, looking up into those non-contact enhanced eyes that he liked so much better than the fake ones. The love he saw gleaming in them turned his heart to mush and his cock to an iron bar. Yes, thank God that they’d cleared up that misunderstanding! He saw Freddie quite clearly now, and he loved what he saw. Maybe his lover was only tall and dark, not dangerous, but he was good with that. Really, really good.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue: The end of the story. Hope you all enjoyed it!

Epilogue:

Bryce tugged at the sleeve of the costume he was wearing, trying not to feel conspicuous. It helped that every second person he saw wander by the booth was also wearing some type of costume. He just wasn’t used to this, because he’d never attended a Con before. He hadn’t quite known what he was getting into when he’d agreed to come to this one with Freddie. 

Speak of the Devil - here came his boyfriend, in full ‘Drake’ mode for the first time in six months. Freddie had dressed up as his character, the mafia hit man, for this Con because he was promoting his newest graphic novel featuring the deadly assassin. Bryce didn’t mind. He thought that those skin-tight black clothes and the golden contacts were awfully sexy, now that he knew that it was just a costume. He fully intended to make sure that Freddie wore it in the bedroom tonight. Or hell, maybe in the closest bathroom here at the Con, if he could talk his boyfriend into a nice quick blow job in one of the stalls. How he’d love to kneel down in front of the dark, deadly man and look up into his eyes as Bryce blew his mind from here to the Andromeda galaxy…

 

He hid a grin as Freddie slid into the chair next to him. “How’s it going?” he asked Bryce, who’d been manning the stall while Freddie went and talked with some of his fellow comic book authors. 

“Pretty good. We’ve sold a dozen copies so far, and some of them are coming back to get your autograph on them later. Is that okay?” Bryce asked.

“Oh, sure. I don’t mind. Thanks for watching the booth for me, Bry. I appreciate it.”

“It’s no big deal. I’m enjoying myself. Except for this costume,” Bryce added in irritation, pulling at the tight sleeve once more.

“Sorry about that. If it helps at all, you make an adorable Orion slave boy,” Freddie told him, leering openly at his green skin, black wig, and the tight, sexy leather costume he was wearing.

“I knew it! You picked this costume out because you think it’s sexy!” Bryce said, hitting him lightly on the arm.

Freddie nodded. “Of course! I always wanted an Orion slave boy when I was growing up watching Star Trek! I just knew they had to have the male version too, some sexy dancer who would seduce me as I sat in a café on some space station somewhere. It’s just always been a fantasy of mine. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bryce turned his hit into a soothing caress down Freddie’s arm, tracing the bulging muscles. “If it’s your fantasy, I’m happy to bring it to life. I’ll gladly seduce you through dance, big boy. Just wait until we get home,” he added with a low-lidded look at his boyfriend.

Freddie gulped visibly and shuddered. Bryce fought back a triumphant grin. He had Freddie by the balls, and he wasn’t letting go anytime soon. He’d make Freddie’s fantasy come to life in a dance scene seduction so hot that the big man might not survive it! Yumm, what an awesome thing to look forward to! 

Freddie shifted uncomfortably in his chair, clearly dealing with some issues at the crotch of his tight black jeans. Bryce felt smug. He liked being able to get his boyfriend all worked up. He was SO looking forward to going home soon and rocking his big guy’s world. Home being his apartment, because Freddie had just naturally gravitated there more and more over time, and eventually all of his possessions just came to be in Bryce’s apartment rather than his own. That’s why it was so easy for him to give up the lease on his own and move into Bryce’s apartment, along with his two cats and assorted geek memorabilia. Bryce’s apartment was bit crowded these days, but he loved every minute of it. 

 

They still had a couple of more hours manning the booth today, much to his chagrin. He’d have much rather just go home right now and have an all-night sex-a-thon, but he wanted Freddie’s graphic novel to do well so he resigned himself to staying. Okay, maybe he toed off his boot and used his bare foot to stroke over Freddie’s ankle with his toes, but that was the farthest he went. And that was enough, because Freddie flushed and started squirming like a misbehaving schoolboy in the chair beside him. He was really evil, but he just couldn’t help himself…

 

A kid came bounding up to the booth, with a copy of the latest graphic novel clutched in his hands. Bryce immediately withdrew his toes so that Freddie could concentrate. “Hey, man, I really love your work!” The kid gushed. “Drake’s so cool! Where do you get your ideas from?”

“The spirit world,” Freddie said, deadpan. “Ouija boards are particularly helpful.”

The kid’s mouth dropped open as Bryce slapped a hand to his mouth to avoid a fit off giggles. “Really?!” the kid cried in amazement.

Freddie grinned. “No, not really,” he replied. “I’m just messing with you. I really have no clue where my ideas come from, though I think my hindbrain might be somewhat involved because of all the blood, death, and violence.”

“Oh. Well, will you sign my copy?” The kid thrust out the glossy book eagerly.

“Sure.” Freddie scrawled his name with a black marker, “Who should I make this out to?”

“Kyle!”

“Okay, Kyle. Thanks for reading my stuff. I appreciate every one of my two fans,” Freddie said, again making a joke with a deadpan face.

Kyle guffawed, since he got the joke this time, and Bryce giggled into his sleeve. “Thanks, man. I’ll treasure this. Keep on writing awesome stuff, dude!”

“I’ll try my best,” Freddie reassured him as the kid bounded away from the booth with the same energy that he’d approached it a few minutes ago.

Bryce leaned his head against Freddie’s shoulder. “Your fans love you,” he breathed into his boyfriend’s ear. “Almost as much as I do,” he added softly.

Freddie smiled down at him, not looking the least bit dangerous in spite of his contacts and clothes and newly shaven head. “I value my fans and their love for me,” he agreed, “Though not a tenth as much as I value the fact that YOU love me. I’m really lucky,” he said happily.

Bryce felt his heart turn to mush in his chest. “No, I’m the lucky one, ‘Drake’.” he replied solemnly. “And I’ll never forget it. Because I’ve got something better than your autograph. I have you. The real you, not the persona you were putting on for awhile. And I love the real you with all of my heart.”

Freddie’s eyes were sparkling with tears he was trying not to shed. “Okay, I was going to wait to do this until later on,” he said hoarsely, “But I can’t wait,” he pulled away, as a startled Bryce watched his boyfriend jump to his feet and circle around the front of the booth until he was right next to Bryce’s chair.

“Freddie? What?” He began, perplexed.

Then, to his breathless astonishment, Freddie as Drake knelt down slowly in front of him, his hand going into the pocket of his long black leather jacket. “Bryce,” he began, his voice low and intense, “Ever since the first moment that I saw you, I wanted to be with you. And I got so lucky, because you let me into your life. Your love is the thing that keeps me going, and I want to be with you for the rest of MY life. Will you marry me, Bryce?” and he whipped out a little black velvet box out of his pocket, holding it out to a shocked, stunned Bryce right there on the floor of the Con.

People began to gather to watch as Bryce gaped helplessly at the man kneeling in front of him. His brain had shorted out. What? Marry? Marriage proposal? Oh, God! He burst into happy tears, which made Freddie look rather alarmed and made a murmur of concern break out in the watching crowd. But before anybody could overreact, Bryce threw himself out of his chair and into Freddie’s strong arms. “Yes, yes, oh, yes!” he cried, not caring that everyone could hear them. “Oh,. Freddie, I love you!” and he began to pepper kisses all over his boyfriend’s(now fiancé’s) face with such enthusiasm that it threatened to topple the still kneeling Freddie over.

Obviously he didn’t care. He drew Bryce close, hugging him tightly, then kissed his lips briefly before he withdrew and took the platinum and diamond engagement ring out of the box and slid it onto Bryce’s slender finger, where it fit perfectly. Bryce sobbed, burying his face in Freddie’s massive chest as his fiancé held him and rocked him until he calmed down. The watching crowd cheered and applauded, before breaking up to go look for other forms of entertainment and excitement. The whole thing felt like a dream for Bryce, a really good dream that he never wanted to wake up from.   
Finally Freddie got him settled back in his chair, and brought him some wet paper towels from the bathroom to bathe his face. Bryce kept sniffling, but his eyes were shining with happiness and he couldn’t stop cooing over the ring. In his mind, it was the most beautiful engagement ring ever. Freddie’s chest swelled with pride when Bryce told him this aloud, and they were in a state of complete delirious happiness as they sat side-by-side in the booth and watched the passing crowd.

“I was thinking, Bry. Maybe we could get married at a Con, since we got engaged at one? What do you think?” Freddie asked him tentatively a bit later. 

He opened his mouth to say what a terrible idea that was, that he wanted a traditional wedding with all of the bells and whistles, but then he saw the hopeful look on Freddie’s face and decided that he didn’t care where they got married, as long as they actually were getting married. He’d have married Freddie at a gas station buck naked and surrounded by rednecks, if that’s what the man wanted. “Sure, let’s do that,” he said, as Freddie beamed at him. “That’s a great idea.”

“Oh, man, you’re so awesome, Bry. Thank you,” Freddie said.

He nodded benignly, so happy that he didn’t care that they were getting married at a Con. Hell, maybe they’d be able to bring the cats to the ceremony. That’d be nice. He wondered vaguely what his family would think of their choice of venue, then giggled as he imagined the look on his mother’s face when she saw this crowd of becostumed weirdoes gathered to watch her son get gay married. That would be worth it right there. He reached out to take Freddie’s hands, squeezing his fingers as Freddie smiled at him in that special way that always made Bryce’s heart flutter in his chest. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Not-So-Dangerous was going to be his from now on, until death so us part. Life was going to be good from now on, Bryce mused. Very, very good. 

 

The End


End file.
